I’ve had a mandatory pause placed on my running—ankle injury.
I wish I could tell you an exciting story about a crazy trail race descent, or an age-defying evening of cocktails and table-dancing with my friends. Alas, no.
After dinner one evening I was FaceTiming with my daughter for quite a while at the kitchen counter—she missed me, which was a surprising plus. Apparently my left foot must have fallen asleep while I perched on the barstool. When I went to stand up (on a pair of nice, tall platform sandals), it was as if the message never got to my foot that we were on the move. There was excruciating pain and my leg went straight but my ankle turned inward, and my foot went parallel to the floor.
I was so happy that I smiled all the way to my car. I would have skipped if it were prudent.
We pause here to respect the perils of platform sandals.
I had planned to meet a friend the next day for an early run. “It’ll be fine by then,” I thought, opting for denial. I kept icing it and overdosing on Advil.
That night I propped my swollen foot up on a big pillow and slept fitfully on my back. I woke up to throbbing and finally faced reality. I texted her I was out. And then I cried.
I guess I should feel lucky at how infrequently I get hurt, sick, or sidelined. What a baby. It’s not the pain, but the forced hiatus from the happy routines of my very active lifestyle that bug me. Running is how I’ve kept (somewhat) sane through this “endless weekend” summer with a house full of teenagers. Running is how I mitigate my rosé consumption when it’s 104 degrees outside. It’s how I stay connected with many of my closest friends, how I get outside and Running From Substance Abuse Toward Recovery, Other Hearst Subscriptions A Renewed Relationship With Running and about. Running is how I spend the rest of the day without sputtering on fumes and becoming impatient or resentful. It’s is how I channel my creative muse and infuse my work with fresh energy and perspective. Running is how I refill my gratitude tank. Running is how I “seaglass” myself, making sharp edges rounded and pretty. Running is how I simultaneously check in and check out.
I don’t like to say I need to run, because that implies that it has become an idol, which never ends well. But this pause has reminded me how very much I love to run, and how I never want to take it for granted. Just like when your lover goes away on a trip, or your kids go to camp, or you have a health scare, or you almost lose your job—in absentia or the perceived risk of it, the things that really matter to you become quite clear.
I have been very, very patient. I was diligent with my icing, ibuprofen, and physical therapy appointments. I got the x-ray from the orthopedist that my physical therapist recommended. I didn’t run for over a week. I watched my daughter start cross country and drove home after dropping her off, rather than heading out for my own run while she trained like I had dreamed about doing all summer. Watching Isabelle rediscover her love for running was the thing that reminded me to honor my own, to take care of it, to protect it and respect it.
I did everything I was supposed to do and then I went back to the doctor, fingers crossed and breath held. He declared me ineligible for the boot, and released me to slowly return to running. Yessssssssss!!!!!!! Other Hearst Subscriptions.
The Best Songs to Add to Your Playlist This Month slowly easing my way back in.
I am a very, very happy (and grateful) runner girl.
Kristin Armstrong is a mother, a writer, and a runner. She has written six books, including her latest, Mile Markers: The 26.2 Most Important Reasons Why Women Run.
