Marathon Monday

          Marathon Monday was the first day it hit me that I actually wasn’t running the marathon. It hit me harder then the full speed cab hitting my leg. This feeling hit me as soon as I threw on the “2012 Boston Marathon" shirt.  From that point forward the day consisted of obsessively watching the marathon online, tracking the runners I knew, crying when no one was looking, and having the absolute worst attitude in physical therapy. This was also the day my physical therapist explained to me that even when I can put 100 percent weight down, I will still need my crutches for awhile after. Right… It doesn’t make sense to me either.  All in all, it was the hardest day yet. 

        On Tuesday I realized how much physical progress I was making.  Marathon Monday was the first day that I could take steps forward without the plates poking me. I was so caught up feeling bad for myself I didn’t even notice. Since then I am walking so much quicker and am in much less pain. I am even having Tylenol free days! I have doubled my minutes on the bike and tripled the milage.

The 2012 marathon is now behind me. Along with many other marathons, The 2013 Boston Marathon is now ahead. I will never get there with the terrible attitude I had on Marathon Monday. It’s time to move forward emotionally, not just physically.  Really though, I think those things go hand in hand. My ankle feeling so good after feeling so bad makes it so easy for me to believe that my running career, along with everything else, has only just begun. 

A Little Bit of Sunshine

When I asked BAA (boston athletic association) if I can defer my entrance for a year they said "no, too many runners get running injuries." So, I politely responded and explained that this was no running injury and I was actually hit by a moving vehicle. Their answered remained no.

UNTIL YESTERDAY. I can officially defer my acceptance and run next years marathon because of the heat (88 degrees). NOT because of a deadly cab driver, but because of a bit of sunshine. Whatever, i'll take it. I was debating if I was going to run anyways. The weather was REALLY the deciding factor.

This was definitely the best news I have received in 2 months. I went to the expo with a smile on my face (almost) and picked up my number. I partied with my friends and had a great time. Crutch danced, hopped, played the guess what happened to me game. All that good stuff.

After my first surgery I was home for 5 days before I went back into the hospital. During this period I could do literally nothing on my own. I was physically incompetent. Taking 5 steps from my bed to my chair was a struggle. But I got through it with so much support. Though I am no longer physically incompetent (even though I felt it a bit on the Penn Station floor) I would not have made it through this weekend without the same amount of emotion support.

To all of you runners who are powering through the heat tomorrow-- you're incredible. Good luck. I'll see you at the starting line next year. I'm all in.

The Penn Station Floor

This coming Monday, April 16th, is the 2012 Boston Marathon. I will not be running. That is not the easiest pill to swallow. This is not going to be the easiest weekend. No matter where I am or what I will be doing I will be thinking about what I WOULD be doing if I was running on Monday.

I have decided that this weekend, I will go to Boston. Why the heck would you go to Boston to just be reminded of it you might ask.. Well, I want my bib number and my t-shirt. I earned it. And I worked really fucking hard to get it. Plus, who better to ease the pain then my boyfriend and best friends?

To get to Boston this weekend I decided to take the usual 7PM acela train that I used to take with ease every other weekend. But today, it was much harder. I couldn't get out of work right at 6 when the kids leave because it takes me much longer to do things like pick up the classroom. I couldn't take the quick express subway directly to penn station. I had to take the cab in friday afternoon traffic. And once I got to the station I couldn't run to my gate, I had to crutch.

Even though I threw in the crutch hop, I still missed my train. And right then and there, I felt so helpless and weak. I sat on the concrete floor of Penn Station, called my mom, and cried. Sobbed actually. Something I would have never been caught dead doing before. I wasn't crying because I missed my train. I was crying because I was so emotionally and physically exhausted.

I know I am brave and I know I have courage. But somedays, most days, this is really hard, and being that brave and keeping my head up is really hard. It's a constant conscious effort. I'll get through it, this I know. Time will pass, but for now -- damn, this is hard and I am prepared for this weekend to be that much harder.

PS -- Don't worry. I got another train. Let's be real. I wouldn't let a stupid train keep me from that bib number and t shirt.  

I Appreciate It

Sometimes people do realize how big of a difference they and their actions can make. There are so many small things in my life lately that I appreciate so much. On a daily basis I hear myself saying “You don’t understand how much I appreciate it.” So today—I thought to take the time to talk about all the things, small and big, that make a huge difference, that I appreciate so much.

1) My Physical Therapist. Also my new therapist. I look forward to seeing her all day, everyday. She has no idea

2) The packages from all my friends and family that I continue to get and always cheer me up.

3) The blow pops, got my 5^th bag from one of The Chi O’s today.

4) The new song that by Kelly Clarkson “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” what a pick me up.

5) Calcium supplements – call from my doctors today, nothings wrong with my “soft bones.” Rock on.

6) Sweet Potato Stew - my lunch that my wonderful mother has cooked and frozen for me in mini containers one for each day of the week. It’s my only lunch option since the grocery story isn’t.

7) Mederma—scar cream that my friend got for me. It seems to be working its wonders.

After surgery I had to keep food down and my pain under control before I could go home. I was in the hospital for 3 nights after my first surgery. My brother, boyfriend, and parents were all there all day. They took nighttime shifts so I was never really alone. My dad had the 12am-4am shift. That was when I was always the most awake. I have so many bad memories from the experience. But the night time with my dad is something I will always cherish. Thanks dad, you don’t understand how much I appreciate it.

50 Percent Walk

GREAT NEWS. I went to the doctor today for my 2 month check up. My not so compassionate doc pulled my ankle back and forth and didn’t say much except this:

“WALK”

Clearly I was SHOCKED and needed the reassurance that he wanted me to walk with both feet.

“YEAH, JUST WALK” he said this so non-chilantly it made me feel like some freak of nature to be uneasy about this. Last step I took was crossing york ave, MONTHS ago. I really wanted to tell him to pipe down and let me hold onto something for a second, but he was having NONE of that.

So, I did, I walked. It hurt, hurt bad. Probably looked real funny to watch me too. After watching me hobble down the hallway he didn't believe me when I tried to convince him there was no pain. He decided bone growth wasn’t all there, so I have 3 weeks of “50 percent weight.”

"50 percent weight" includes

1) This fantastic air cast (see ya never ugly black boot)

2) Walking very slowly with two crutches, very very slowly.

3) BIKING!!! You know were I’ll be tomorrow. Equinox hogging the bike, until someone kicks me off.

4) Pain and swelling but who cares because my foot is touching the ground.

5) A good nights sleep FINALLY as well.

I spent 5 days at home after the surgery learning to crutch around with heavy metals rods sticking out of my ankle before my second surgery. With that under my belt, I can definitely learn to “50 percent walk”. NO PROBLEM.

A Real Runner

Over the last few months I've gone through a lot of phases. There was the "i'm so hyped up on pain meds everything is great" phase. Then there was the constant replay and total focus of the actual accident phase. Once I was out of the hospital and off all the pain meds I was in the "I need to know every detail of what happened in the hospital" phase. Either I repressed a lot, pain meds made me forget, or some combination of both. If you knew me at all before the accident you would have said I was pretty obsessed with running. Alot of people have said this accident could be good because it might help with my obsession. Well, they're wrong. Now I am in the phase where I am EVEN MORE OBSESSED with running.

The running obsession phase comes in many forms:

1. Constant day dreams of when my feet used to hit the pavement or of the day they will again.
2. Creepily starring at people running and mentally critiquing there pathetic speed and form
3. Creepily standing next to my favorite treadmill at the gym and fantasizing about running on it again
4. The reoccurring dream where I jump out of bed and just take off running in absolutely no pain (this took place of the dream where I get hit by the cab, so it's actually a huge upgrade)
5. Talking to anyone who is training for a race asking way to many questions and giving way too much advise that they probably don't need or want.
6. Reading runnersworld.com instead of doing work.

Yesterday I read that wearing "real running gear" (looks like swim suit bottoms and a big sports bra) will make you a faster runner. I never wore it before because I felt that I wasn't a real hard core runner and I wasn't fit enough. Yet, as I watch the runner muscle fall off my once toned body I realize that I should have been way more confident.

In my first surgery they did a couple things. First, they reset all the brakes in my tibia and fibula. Both the bones in my shin... split right down the middle.. ouch! Then put what they called the X FIX on my leg. X FIX - short for external fixtator. What the heck is that you might be wondering.. It is the definition of repulsive. It's what they used to to stabilize my leg before the swelling went down so I could have my second surgery. Key word, external, only it was attached to my (internal) bones.

As gross and painful as that may sound, I knew then and I know now that getting the X FIX was my first real step to recovery. At the time I didn't realize how many steps there would be and I still don't know how many more the future will hold. But I can tell you what the last step to recovery will be-- buying one of those runner outfits. I'm confident that after all of this, i'll be a real runner.

I Hope So

I always do my long training runs on Sundays. So I decided to check my training schedule. It said--

Sunday April 1st. 23 miles. Pace: 7:55.

So, I thought about it and decided I probably wasn't ready today. Instead, I sat on the couch and did physical therapy. Only guess what? Moving your ankle up and down and sometimes in a cirle does NOT get your heart rate up or feel as good as running 23 miles. It also wasn't enough of a distraction from the awful feeling that I should be outside running a long run. I mean, that's what I do on Sundays. No matter what. For the last 3 years.

I decided to go to THE GYM. Going to the gym on one leg is not an easy task, but well worth it.

Things you can do at the gym one legged:

1) One legged leg lifts with ankle weights on your theigh (lay on your back, side, and stomach) Given the fact that I have almost no more musle in my left leg it was actually pretty though

2) Crunches. With the bad leg laying straight ahead

3) What my students call "Push downs" where you lay on your bag and bring your legs up and down

4) Planks (bum leg crossed over your good leg so no weight is on it)

5) A million arm weight exercises sitting down

6) One legged squats, WITH CAUTION.

Now, the stuff that I was doing wasn't really that hard. That wasn't the scary part. It was really all of the people staring at me like I was a crazy person. And hey, I might be right now. I continued on trying to ignore them. Until one man came up to me and said "if I ever feel like I can't train for a day I am going to think of you... talk about determination". And then I realized, some of them were staring at me because i'm alittle wack but others were staring at me because of my crazy drive.

After a long night in the ER my surgeon finally came to see me in the morning right before I went into my first surgery. After he told me again that I had a SEVERE injury and gave me a play by play of the surgery, most of which I didn't understand. Then... I asked the question that I had been anxiously awaiting the answer to.

"If I do everything you tell me to do, will I be able to fully recovery from this and get back to where I was before?" And without even thinking he immediatly responded

"I hope so"

I clearly started to sob. I lied earlier--getting my foot jammed back into place wasn't the worst pain of my life. Hearing him say "I hope" was way more painful. Hope is not what I was looking for. He later told my parents that all he could do was his part and I was going to have to do mine to get he best outcome. Well, Dr.-- Here I am, doing my part. What do you have to say about my 7:55 pace now?