Decisions

When I woke up this morning I lay there for a long time debating if I should really get up to go to the gym. I lay there dreading the walk from the bedroom to the bathroom. A total of about 10 steps. When I wake up in the morning walking hurts more than usual. I get pain from my shin to the  bottom of my heel because it's pretty stiff.

While I lay there trying to decide if I really had to bare this pain yet I thought about what I should do to work out today. I ran through list of options elliptical, bike (w out standing unless I want more pain tomorrow), row, cross fit , or some combination of two. These options made me strongly consider the option of turning  off my alarm  and staying in bed for awhile longer.

I guess I should probably tell you I'm not currently able to run. If you've been following my progress you know that about a month ago I ran one mile and felt pretty good while running.

Well, the real story is I spent the next 2 weeks paying for it. I went back to an awful limp, shin splints, IT band knee pain, and lower back issues. Basically, I went out too soon and every other part of my body over compensated for my weakness from the knee down. 

So can I bare the pain of running for 10 minutes? Yes. Is it worth it right now? NO. Not an easy decision to make. A decision I have to remake everyday.

Instead, In physical therapy I am now working on the Alter G, anti gravity treadmill, where I put 50 percent of my weight on it and the rest is lifted by the air of the treadmill.  Cool Video on The Anti Gravity Treadmill 

Before actually deciding to go back go sleep I looked at my phone. Monday, July 16. I instantly realized I was exactly 2 weeks away from my pre op appointment. 15 days from having everything out of my ankle. I finally felt like  I was on the home stretch. Yes, my next surgery will be a step back. But every marathoner slows down around mile 17. You have to slow down at some point if you want to finish strong.

With that last bit of hope, I decided to get out of bed.

The First Mile

5 years ago after my first year of college I had put on the freshman 15 (and then some) along with being dumped.  This left me sitting on my front porch so lost, depressed, and unconfident. I looked down at my old Nike sneakers that I had originally bought for style and decided I would go for a run. It seemed to be a solution to all my problems. I made it one mile and literally thought I might die the entire time. Yet at the end of the run I felt better.

Today, I found myself in the same place on my porch. This time I luckily hadn't been dumped but I had lost something that hurt just as bad. Looking down at my untoned injured body I still found myself feeling lost, depressed, and unconfident. I looked down at my mizuno wave rider 14s that I had bought for shape, arch support, weight, and speed. I decided to do the one thing I knew how to do to make myself feel better, run. I ran that exact same first mile again.

Since the accident I always wondered if when I got back to it would I be starting from scratch or would I have some of my muscle memory left? I still don't really have the answer. While my ankle throbbed, the pins caused horrible shin splits, and there was a shooting pain all the way into my IT band, I still ran a very solid pace and didn't break a sweat. With that being said, I dont think I could have made it step further. One more surgery and all that pain will go away, right?

I ran to feel confident, I ran to be happy, I ran to problem solve, I ran to cool anxiety, I ran to stay fit, I ran to distract myself, I ran to feel better, I ran to be better,  I ran to win.

As painful as it might be mentally and physically--  every time I run I feel myself getting all of those things back a little bit more.

We've got LOTS to celebrate.

At 3:30 PM Monday afternoon my doctor shook my hand and said, "Sarah, you had a terrible injury and you have recovered incredibly well."


I wanted to think to myself "of course I did, I always knew I would do my part."  But in reality, him telling me that I had progressed better than others and came back from such a bad injury is what I had been needing and hoping to hear for months. The firm handshake, the  sincere  words, and overall enthusiasm from my doctor was my confirmation that I really could do it. 


According to him, due to my progress, I am able to spend the next two months "pounding away" because no matter what I can do I can no longer damage my ankle. My physicaly therapist is going to hold me off on running for a bit longer. Another day without running when I know I can't hurt myself seems unbearable. But it's the long term need for complete and full recovery to get my distance and pace back that keeps from stepping off the elyptical and onto the tredmil everyday.


He also allowed me to schedule my last surgery to remove those metal things sticking out of my ankle that cause severe shin splints. First week of August, in an out, quick recovery. done.


When I got home I threw my aircast in the corner of my closet, along with my crutches, boot, splint, ankle cranker, and ankle weights. I am not going to be modest. Today, I felt proud. So proud.


When I have fully recovered (because I know I will) after the surgery I am going to have a huge "recovery/thank you for your support party." Your invite? Reading this blog.  We've got LOTS to celebrate. 

A Long Road Home

Last Memorial Day weekend I found myself in the Hamptons. This weekend consisted of me waking up at dark hours of the morning to do a 17 mile training run on the water, which I loved every second of. My run left me feeling free and confident on the beach followed by caloriless beer and fun aggressive late nights.

For this years Memorial Day weekend, I had made a goal to run my first mile or two. It would mark the four weeks when my doctor told me I would be allowed to do "whatever I want." My goal was then altered my my physical therapist when she told me that realistically I won't be running till I have no pain walking. Unfortunately, I am yet to take one step without a limp or pain.

This Memorial Day weekend I found myself at Figawi in Nantucket, pushing through people in a bar trying not to get toppled over in search of a place to sit down. After an hour had passed and all the blood had rushed to my ankle there was no where to sit or a table to lean up against. Without a 17 miler, or even a single mile in 3 month I was feeling beyond tense. My boyfriend and a few friends left the bar realizing it wasn't the best of situations. The situation was made worse when there were no open cabs.

And after another hour of standing and trying to hail a cab, we bit the bullet and decided that the only option was to walk.... walk the 2 miles home.

How did I walk 2 miles home? I didn't. My boyfriend carried me on his back the entire way. His idea.

We are defined and create our identities by MOMENTS of IMPACT. In 5 years I will not remember the 17 mile run and night I had in the Hamptons last year. But I can garentee that for the rest of my life I will tell the story about the boy who cared enough to give me a piggy back ride all the way home.

Clearly, the road to recovery is much longer than I could have ever imagined. But luckily all these defining moments in between will make every step worth it.

Three Months After The Accident

What I can do three months after the accident:

1.      WALK without help of anything
2.       Go on the elliptical!!!!!
3.       Take the subway
4.       Sit at dinner with my foot down without intolerable pain
5.       Wear flats instead of sneakers
6.       Open doors with my hands
7.       Carry my own things (food, papers, keys, ect)
8.      Use a purse and or clutch 
9.      Throw a football and catch a football (if thrown directly at me)
10.      Take my students outside!

What I still can’t do 3 months after the accident:

1. Walk without a limp and pain
2. Walk around without a dorky air cast
3. Jump
4. Squat
5. Go down the stairs normally
6. Go to bed without icing
7. Get through the day without Tylenol
8. Wear heels
9. Get myself into reasonable shape
10. Run

Before the accident I was a runner the  all of a sudden I was someone with an injury who couldn’t walk. Now I am just this person who walks around like everyone else and everyone thinks I’m just normal. But there’s a constant pain in my ankle that is always reminding me of how different I still feel, and more importantly how far away I am from where I really want to be, running. 

Todays That Day....

Todays that day that I had been waiting for what feels like forever. My physical therapist said I no longer had to use one crutch, and I was free to always walk on my own. 


I looked down to my watch to check the date, March 14th. Exactly three month after the accident.


Sayonara, crutches. I'll see you in August.

The 5:30 AM Text Message

After spending the day at home for mothers day, I pulled away from the new haven train station and I looked down at my phone. One text message from my boyfriend that read. "you seem so happy again" 

I then realized for the first weekend in a long time I almost felt like myself. I felt like I lived my weekend like I would have any other weekend before the accident. The only difference was instead of running the loops of central park, I attempted to walk which failed and ended in a romantic piggy back ride.  

My life was turned upside down because I took a thoughtless step into the road. While I progress and reflect I realize how much that not only effected me but also so many people around me as well. It's easy for me to tell you my story and give you my perspective of things. And it's easy for you to have sympathy and feel for me, but there so much to be said for the people who didn't take that step into the road whose lives where effected just as much. 

My mom was sitting down to watch her favorite TV show when she got the phone call. Her and my father immediately got in the car and sped their way into the city. 

When my mom arrived at the hospital she found me by the sounds of my screaming. She immediately grabbed my hand and patted my head repeating "you're ok, moms here" over and over. I don’t remember her ever leaving my side until I went into surgery the next morning. 

My mom spent the next 3 weeks in New York City. Going home about 1-2  times just to get clothes Sacrificing time at her job, trip to Florida, and just about everything else. 

Every morning my dad would leave the hospital at 3:00 or 4:00 am and then my mom would send me a text at 5:30 am telling me she was on her way. I spent that hour and a half alone staring at my phone waiting for her text. I always told her she could sleep in but hoping she wouldn’t. Not surprisingly, she never did. 

When she got there she would do my hair, talk to my doctors, and do her best to get me to eat. Then she would sit and talk to me for hours. I tried to thank her and apologize over and over but she always told me it wasn't allowed.

Once I was back home she would make me breakfast every morning and make sure I ate every bite. She walked all over the city getting groceries, new outfits to fit over my array of casts, and our favorite cupcakes.

When my mom needed to take some days back at work she would take the train from NYC to New London and back all in one day. Just so I didn't have to spend a night alone.

She still never misses a doctors appointment and calls or texts everyday to make sure I'm ok. I couldn't feel this happy or have made this progress without all of  her help.

Happy Mothers Day, Mom. I've never loved you so much.