Booted

Last Saturday I woke up bright and early to head out for a 6 mile run. I was feeling good, well rested, and ready to tackle the 6. I walked up to Central Park (I love the walks to the park; it serves as a great warm up to get my legs loose and ready to run).

The bottom of my right foot/heel had been bothering me for a few days but I chalked it up to wearing stupid (but cute) non-supportive flats or flip flops. I always strike my heel pretty hard when I walk normally. They felt good in my supportive cushion-y running shoes, so I wasn't worried.

I ran a very slow, very steady 5 miles. There were a lot of walk breaks and slow jogging but I was ok with that. It was hot, I was sweaty, and I was in no rush. By the time I stopped running and began my walk home, my heel was killing me. I limped most of the way home and just wanted to put it up and ice it. I did just that. But then, feeling restless and wanting to enjoy the gorgeous day, I set out (in flip-flops) to do some shopping and get ready for a friend to come over for knitting and wine night. I iced my foot throughout the night. And then...

I woke up at 3:30am in excruciating pain. My foot was swollen and throbbing, sharp pains shooting up and down my foot. I immediately grabbed an ice pack, tied it around the bottom of my foot with a towel and propped it up on pillows. I slept on and off for two hours then transferred myself to the couch. I tried watching Harry Potter but was in and out of sleep for another two hours. I was debating on going to the the emergency room but took an anti-inflammatory pill (from last year's foot injury) and breathed through the pain (after a hysterical crying phone call to my parents). Phone calls were made to the emergency line of my podiatrist, who told me to come in first thing the next morning.

By about 1pm, the pain had gone away but my foot was still swollen. I went to the doctor the next morning and swelling had gone down. After applying some pressure and telling her what had happened she uttered the words I was hoping I wouldn't have to hear: "I'm going to put you in a boot and no running for 2-3 weeks. After that, you can gradually re-introduce running but nothing extreme, start with walking, and nothing intense...like training for a half marathon. You need to heal."

I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. First of all, a boot? Second, no running? No Bronx Half. No upcoming races I have planned. No running? For a month at least?

So, on went the boot for one week and out went my spirits. I was booted.