How Things Can Change!
I was having breakfast, getting ready to head to the Y for water running and weights and looking at my calendar and planning out the week’s training. Rushing, I sped through the living room and banged my foot into the couch leg. Immediately, I knew something was very wrong. It’s not that I haven’t stubbed my toes before, but usually the pain quickly subsides. This time was different. The pain went deep and worsened to where I was limping—I could not put pressure on the small toe, the point of impact.
On the schedule was racing the Beach to Beacon 10K the following Saturday, preceded by an 11-mile run tomorrow as a final tuneup. The trip to Portland was doubling as a chance to see my partner’s daughter’s new apartment as she moves to the next phase of her life after graduating from art school.
I was TOTALLY upset (pissed!) at myself for such inattention. I’ve been reading Jon Kabat Zinn’s book Coming to Our Senses, which is all about paying attention in the present moment. Zinn suggests if we do that, then things tend to take care of themselves. I simply did not do that. The upshot was a visit to Urgent Care for an x-ray confirming what I suspected—a broken small toe. The report says it’s a “comminuted” (more than one break) fracture. Looking at the x-ray with the doctor, I could see the two fractures on separate sides of the toe. For sure, next week’s 10K is not happening. The good news is the USATF-NE Grand Prix Mile Run happened last week and it’s another five weeks before the Grand Prix 8K in Salem. Based on what the doctor told me, there’s reason to believe I can start running in two or three weeks and be able to run a credible race there. If not, the Grand Prix 10K is three weeks after that.
Ironically, this happened as I am finishing up Staying With It, my memoir-type book about running and racing over the past 49 years. The 215 pages of text is set, the 6” x 9” cover selected, and the final touches should be made this week with hopes of publishing by August 15th. This will then lead to efforts to market the book, something not in my wheelhouse and for which I’ll need help. It’s been a huge project, taking about half my time for nearly a year. Had I known this, I might have foregone doing it. Sometimes it’s better not to know.
We make plans. After all, life is short and we enjoy doing things. It’s great to take time to contemplate and meditate, i.e., to be. That’s important. But in our active phase, there is work to do, places to be, and people to engage with. For me, some of that revolves around running and racing. As I note in Staying With It, I really don’t know where I’d be without running. It checks so many important boxes. Now that running is off the table for a time, I need to be creative to ensure putting in some aerobic activity without aggravating the foot. It seems deep-water running and cycling are the most likely options. And it’s perhaps a good chance to spend more time working on upper body strength. I’ve long said this is important, but know I short-shrift the upper body stuff and have seen my arms and chest recede over time.
It’s also a good time to take stock of being more present. To take in the beauty of each day, and each moment in that day. July in Vermont is prime time. I’m able to sit on our deck next to the pond surrounded by trees and revel in the birds coming to our feeders and watching the herons and egrets sample the wildlife in our pond. There’s a lot going on in this little ecosystem and I don’t want to miss what is there to see and hear.
And going back into the house I’m doubly cautious about walking by that couch. In fact, I moved it two feet further into the living room. At least for the foreseeable future, it will remind me how quickly things can change!