I Have To Take Off My Pants....

...for foot surgery?



I visited the doctor recently about a painful ganglion growth in the joint of my foot. He did an ultrasound on it and found that it was larger than I thought. After several months of Rx anti-inflammatories, I determined that running and walking weren't getting any easier and I needed to have the growth removed. The doc also took an ultrasound look at my plantar fasciitis and found that it is still inflamed. He recommended some exercises that would strengthen my feet. He mentioned that regular running shoes are like casts for our feet and serve to weaken them, causing injuries like PF.


I told him that I run in Vibrams, which he seemed very pleased with, however, he recommended that I needed to build up the muscles in my feet to help me become a better runner and reduce the PF flare-ups. He gave me an article written by a couple of podiatrists who studied African runners' feet. Top running coaches (like Ivy league coaches) also focus on feet strengthening exercises since regular running and walking shoes significantly weaken the foot muscles.


Today I went for surgery. We'd planned on a later time so that C could make it, however, yesterday I received a call that it was earlier than I had planned. C felt really bad, and I confess I didn't handle the idea of surgery without my bestest buddy too well, but we ultimately made the most of it. My cute dad stepped in to stay at the hospital and C would take over once I came home. It worked out great.


Things that I said today:


"I have to take my pants off for foot surgery?"


"Can I get a robe that doesn't have a hole in the chest area?"


"Please don't cut any nerves in my foot."


"I am kind of ticked because I told you to use my left arm and you ignored me [resulting in a gusher all over the bed. My left arm has huge veins that even the worst phlebotomists can't miss]."



First words out of surgery, "When can I start running?"





To nurse Larry, "This is the best dad in the world. Just thought you should know that."



Things I heard today:


"You can wear these shorts if you want to. Wait, are these smalls? They are HUGE!"






"Oh, it's not a tear, but I guess we can tape that shut for you."


Anesthesia student, "This is the stuff that's going to make you feel HAPPY. When you wake up, you'll feel pretty great."


"The ganglion was the size of a nickle round, and two nickles stacked in thickness. It was pressing down on the nerve in your foot. You should feel much better once it mends. [Positioned inside of the joint of my big toe, right where your foot bends every time you take a step.]"

"It'll be easier to maintain the pain than to catch up. Take these as soon as possible."


"You won't remember any of this conversation. [I can recall it word for word.]"




This morning before surgery I had a list of things I wanted to get done. I needed to meet with our Website chair. I wanted to clean the shower, scrub the toilets, finish some laundry, and vacuum the living room. I also wanted to buy a shadow box for C's new marathon metal and return some items to Best Buy. I was up until midnight the night before sweeping, dusting, and doing dishes since I would be down for four days. Surprisingly, I pulled it all off before my dad arrived at 10:30 AM. It's amazing what you can accomplish in a couple of hours.


C met me after the surgery with some Chic-fil-A soup, and made me super comfy, bought me whatever I wanted, made dinner that night, and later bought me a care package including a card that said, "As you're recovering, Just Relax - put your feet up... Have people bring you things... You know...
PRETEND YOU'RE A MAN."


Thanks to Dad, C, and all of the nice people who made my experience a great one today, even with all of my crazy comments!






Disclaimer: This entry written while on drugs.

Adrenaline Rush

There are those who live their lives on the edge, teetering between life and death because they feel more alive in that space than with both feel on the ground. That, for them, is the thrill of living. They thrive on gulping down fear like a bucket of water after three days in the desert. They refuse to live life abstemiously.

I take a different perspective. For me, the thrill of living life does not come in leaping off of cliffs or hurling myself out of a plane, rather it comes from stretching. I have always considered myself rubber; someone who always has room to grow and improve. Ever since I can remember, I have taken living life quite seriously; after all, what you do in this life determines your eternity. That's not to say that I don't have fun, but actions and words should require reflection and deliberation rather than leaving it to chance or whim.

C ran a marathon this weekend. He'd hiked a huge mountain three days earlier and could barely walk the day before. He had only run fifteen miles prior to the race, and yet there he was, looking strong and amazing, and not just looking strong, but BEING strong! He finished with flying colors, 22nd in his division when he'd hoped to be in the top 25. There's nothing like achieving a goal unless you get to see the love of your life achieve a goal. I was undeniably proud of him for pushing through the pain and pulling out a personal best time. Nicely done, you sexy athlete, you!

Attending a marathon event is unlike any other event, except maybe graduation with a Master's degree or a Doctorate. The feeling in the air is tangible. Normal, everyday people have trained their bodies to do something spectacular, and they are here at the culminating event with bells on.








I have run in several races, but a marathon isn't just a race. It is endurance, stamina, mental power, losing toenails, getting-chaffed-so-bad-that-you-almost-worship-your-body-glide-stick, a true athlete's event. Speaking of Body Glide, I cannot truly describe what it is like to finally learn that there is something that can help with those friction points. Let's just say you NEVER share your stick with anyone else...

We ran into several friends the night before the race at the pasta dinner and they all asked me if I was running, too. Argh! I so wish I was! I wanted to drop everything and start training again! Still, it was nice to have some friendly faces around who knew us and could share in the excitement with us.

With races that are closer to home, I like to put up encouraging messages and notes to keep C motivated. At Mile 23, I found a loverly man who was writing chalk notes on the road. I asked if I could write a few as well, and he generously offered me as much chalk as I wanted:

I also wrote a few more, including, "Enjoy the Journey," because I decided that I wanted to enjoy running the race, and not just finishing it. I focussed on taking in the entire experience of my race, the people chatting, the little girl crying out, "Way to go, Mom!" and running along side her for a mile or so, the people cheering, that red bronco with music blaring, the farm animals, the sun filtering through the shadows... I look back and think of the race, not the finish line, and that is a beautiful memory (except for the last three miles, when I kept telling C, "Say something happy. I need happy thoughts.").

Way to go, C, for being amazing in every way, and good luck on your first day at the new job! You will rock!!! Oh, and my adrenaline rush? I guess that will have to wait for another day...