Door #2

Day 3. Already a struggle. I think just because this will be a long one. Shitty shitters.

Welp, long story short, I started having left posterior tibial tendon (inner ankle) pain. Blah blah. It was a gargantuan cankle and diagnosed as a tear on an ultrasound. Blah blah. Took six weeks off. Blah blah. Got an MRI that showed it was actually tendinosis, not a tear. Blah blah. Doc said it’s a common chronic issue in 40-something year old runners and that the tendon is simply wearing away from years of running (so basically, the MRI diagnosed me as old). Blah blah. Said just to run to my pain level. Blah blah. Got a second opinion, who said it actually CAN heal, but it may take 3-6 months. Blah di freaking blahhhhh.

She's a beaut, Clark!

Side note, this foot also has evidence of an old stress fracture I never knew about, cuneiform and metatarsal arthritis (with a bone spur sitting on top of it just for funsies), and my plantar is still the size of a sumo wrestler’s. So, I’d like to think the MRI actually just diagnosed me as a BADASS. An old badass, but still.

Also, I seemingly know a lot of people currently considering or getting knee or hip replacements. I’d like to advocate for foot replacements to be a thing. Maybe just gonna drop that nugget in a suggestion box somewhere. Mmm hmm.

But I digress.

Anywho, I decided to choose door #2 - the doc who says it actually can heal with ample rest. So, I'm going to give it a shot. No, not a cortisone shot, a chance type shot. My plan is to not run until…omg…January. At this point, if the sucker isn’t better, I will then revert to door #1 and call the doc behind door #2 and tell him he was a liar and just run to my pain tolerance. I mean, I CAN run on this, but if there’s a solid chance I don’t have to run with discomfort, I’m gonna give it a go. 

Tendons are stubborn, impatient little buggers. Whereas a bone injury is predictable and typically heals in a set amount of time, tendons like to mess with your sanity and leave you guessing. I’m not sure why, but I keep playing the final Jeopardy theme song in my head…

So, what will I do in the meantime? Road bike. I may join the Zwift world. Lift weights. Bitch. Eat copious amounts of cheese. However, I feel like I need another hobby too that will satisfy my competitiveness. Some other things I’m good at include telling off selfish asstwats and being the first one to get through all the wines at wine tastings, but Mike tells me I should probably scale back on those. I dunno, I’m kind of proud of them??

And hey! Instead of running today, I’m blogging! I set a goal at the beginning of this year that I would blog once a month. HAHAHAHAHA. Fail. Here we are, first blog in a year and a half. Not gonna lie, blogging started to feel narcisssssisssstic (added extra s’s because if you say narcissistic five times really fast, you’ll laugh at yourself). Like, why do I feel like anyone gives a shit about what I’m doing? Sometimes I don’t even give a shit about what I’m doing.

But anywho, here are a couple other life updates that I’ll mention in my narcisssssisssstic state this morning...

I’ve had a new job for about a year and a half now, and it’s amazeballs! No, no, I'm still coaching with IPR too, but I’m also a copywriter/editor now for a mental health organization full of pretty amazing peeps. I mean, they actually care about you as a person and laugh with each other. WHOA. And no, I don’t write for them like I’m writing now (translation - I don’t swear). I can seldomly be serious.

I’m working on starting a cross country team at one of my sons’ schools for next year. Seems like this won’t be an easy feat, but I have some pretty cool peeps in my arsenal helping me, so yeah, can’t stop, won’t stop. ← I actually really dislike that saying. So cliché, eh? But it works. Anywho, Mike and I always say that cross country saves lives. Sounds silly, but I don’t know where I’d be today if I never joined my high school team. See, look at me being all serious and shit.

But no really, I'm fine. It's fine. Fall always ends up being a neurotic time of year between birthdays, holidays, and the 6-week long bronchitis stint that pretty much always knocks me out during October and November anyway. Mike and the boys are prepared for simply not knowing what kind of Jen they'll get each day for the next three plus months. Like, did she wake up crying? Laughing? Yelling? Singing? I dunno.

I suppose this unpredictability could also be blamed on perimenopause though? Interesting that the symptoms of that and not running are quite similar. And shit, just think, my three dudes have to deal with me during both. Eeeekers. If you suddenly feel bad for them, Mike likes brown ales and the boys like ice cream. Or maybe I should just set them up a GoFundMe. "Mom Went Bonkers. Anything Helps."

Aaaaaand on that note, bye.