Well That's a Big Fat Bummer

I played soccer for many, many years growing up and now I've turned into a runner. My family ran a 52 mile relay in Hawaii, I've completed a half marathon (that I will likely never do again, right Nikki?), and now I've gotten super into 5k's and have been training really hard for them with the goal of completing one in under 21 minutes (best so far is 21:11).

But all that running, especially some increased mileage recently, left me with a stress fracture about 6 weeks ago. It was really sucky news to hear. As a 26 year old who has already had knee surgery and a now a stress fracture due to athletic endeavors it made me feel pretty down in the dumps about myself. I was told by the doctor I couldn't run for 4 weeks. Booo. Let me tell you, that was fucking hard. That walking sign that just turned into a flashing hand? No running to catch it. What's that, you just need me to run and grab a screwdriver? Sorry, I will be walking to get it. Do I hear my cell phone somewhere? I will find out in 10 minutes because I have to walk around the house to find it. Grrr. Not being able to run is a difficult thing.

But I was a diligent walker and 2 weeks ago I finally got the green light to run from my doctor. Good stretching and a 1 mile run twice a week. I waited an extra week because I was nervous, but took off on my first run last Tuesday. Day 1, totally fine and awesome. I probably ran it way too fast because I was just so excited to run again. Friday rolled around for run #2. It felt a little funky towards the end, but I thought it'd be okay. Nope. Evening rolled around and my leg was really achy. It continued through the weekend and by yesterday morning I looked like this

Yup, I'm in a cast. And those are super sexy low crotch shorts.

I thought I'd just be getting a walking boot and that would be fine and dandy. But when my leg hurt to the touch my doctor wanted an x-ray and it turned out my stress fracture was developing into a full break (despite my diligent walking) and the bone was beginning to buckle. When you're doctor walks back from reading an x-ray and says, "You're not going to like this..." it doesn't really put any pep in your already achy step.

Off to the cast room I went. And every nurse and P.A. that was in there kept commenting, "She doesn't look happy." I ask you hospital staff, is anyone ever happy to get a cast?

I was not prepared for the adventure so I did not wear proper "I have a cast" attire and thus my pants did not fit over my now behemoth leg so I had to wear their ever so sexy paper shorts with a crotch that hung nearly to my knees. When I gimped outside and walked the 3 blocks to my car, one up a hill, in downtown Oakland holding a pair of pants and wearing the shorts of a 300 lb man I finally saw the humor in the situation. Especially when random people on the street started talking to me. Chris demanded a picture :) So this is what he got when I got home

Let me tell you, it was a good thing I shaved yesterday morning or I could have added grossly stubbled legs to the list of infractions

I tried to ask the doctor what activities I was allowed to do and she reluctantly said I could do upper body workouts. I tried to explain to my mom that if I got a fancy sock I was allowed to swim and that the weight of my cast would make my arms get really strong. To which she, and everyone in my family, has given me a look of skepticism (or the equivalent phone skepticism) and told me that it's probably good that I got a cast because it will force me to not be able to do anything. Damn cast!

Of course I will still document all the work Chris will be doing on the house for the next 3 weeks that I will be a cast wearer, but you might not see me climbing any ladders or crawling under the house anytime soon...