During some down time at work yesterday, I created a schedule for the evening for myself. You see, I work an hour away from home and I’m the kind of person that needs sleep so I like to be in bed by 10 or 10:30, which leaves little time to get a lot of things done when I get home.

The plan was to go home, feed the puppies, go for a run (starting at just 1 mile since it’s been awhile), have dinner, prepare some of tonight’s dinner so there is less to do, finish writing thank you cards for the wedding (hey, ettiquette says we have a year!), clip my coupons from Sunday’s paper, take a shower, research some recipes for my Pampered Chef Deep Covered Baker and then hopefully get to just “sit” for a little while before bed.

It all got done except for the thank you cards – maybe I’ll tackle those Saturday afternoon. My run though? My run was awful.

I mentioned that I had cut my foot pretty badly back in August. The experience was less than pleasant and as I was holding L’s hand, crying while the doctor phsychian’s assistant stitched it up, L mentioned that it might be a good idea to start saving our money – “I hear adoption is expensive.” Hey, I’ve always told him I was a baby. And I’ve never had anything like that done before.

Anyway, the hospital I went to doesn’t have the best reputation, but I was just going for some stitches, not because I had a stroke or something. It’s not a bad hospital – there are just better ones around. But it was the closest one and when this all happened, L was three hours away and one of our friends (also an EMT – it pays to know all these people) was the one who came over, wrapped my foot up and took me to the hospital until L got there (yes, L got to the hospital from 3 hours away before they even began my stitches – and we had gone as soon as I cut my foot).

As L was watching them stitch up my foot (I obviously had my eyes closed and would have passed out if I had not been lying down) he wasn’t too impressed with the work. He thought one of them was kind of loose and he also thought I should have had 1-2 more – and maybe 1-2 internal stitches because it was so deep. But the PA thought it was fine and I was bandaged up and set on my way to limp out of the ER.

Truth be told, I probably walked on it much more than I should have in the days following. I couldn’t help it – I had things to do – our wedding was in three weeks! Because it was on the inside of my left foot, kind of on my arch, I walked on the outside of my foot. It took much longer to heal than I had thought it would or than the PA said (perhaps bc I wasn’t too good at staying off of it). L had to clean it for me (I almost passed out twice in the process) and when I went to the Minute Clinic at CVS to have them removed ($70 to remove stitches with no insurance!), I almost passed out there too. I was still afraid it was going to pop back open, so I continued to walk on the side of my foot.

Fast forward to the last couple weeks. I initially started running again at the beginning of December. I was determined to train in time to run a half at the end of February. The first day was awful, as I knew it would be since it had been about 7 months since I really ran. By the time I got to day 3, the outside of my left ankle was beginning to hurt. Something I had never experienced before. It was then that I realized I was running on the outside of my left foot. Apparently I have been doing this all along, just not as severly as when I hurt my foot. I looked at a pair of flats I wear to work all the time, and I can see where the side has been rubbing against the ground.

Damn. There goes the half. This was going to take work to start running in correct form again.

So last night I went out and did just that. It was the first time I ran since day 3 at the beginning of December. I made sure to really focus on running correctly on my left foot. And unlike the last times I had run, I felt good. I made it to a half a mile in just over 5 minutes (that’s good for me). But I noticed that my foot was starting to hurt. And it hurt more and more with every step. Not my ankle like last time, but my foot where the scar is.

I didn’t even make it to 3/4 of a mile before I had to stop. It was awful. And even as I walked the rest of the way to the car, it hurt so much it made me want to cry. Although, part of the tears were partly due to frustration as well.

I’m hoping that it’s just because I have been favoring the outside of my foot so much and that I just need to build the strength (and tolerance) back up for the inside part. I have been trying to be more mindful of how I walk in general and notice how easily my foot rolls to the side. This all seems to explain why my foot gets so sore when I wear heals now (which is very infrequently – bc of the soreness) – it’s because I can’t as easily roll my foot in those as I can in flats or sandals. That’s my diagnosis anyway.

My goal for tonight was to run 1.5 miles, but I’m just going to do as much as I can. I don’t want to overdo it, but I have to keep going.

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