feet & pride.

I am accident prone.
I am sort of an ankle klutz.

This past April I sprained my ankle up something fierce. I was walking out of the gym, having completed a work out that left me feeling empowered and encouraged (My time had nearly brought me tears as I rejoiced at a milestone reached). In the pouring down rain I stepped into a puddle which had a gaping pot hole hidden. I drove myself to the emergency room, I got it scanned. I was out of work 8 days. When I returned to work I was stationed to areas that would allow me to sit and rest it.

In tears in the emergency room I explained to my physician that I was working towards a goal of completing a half marathon in Disney World, in October. I was advised that with proper and cautious care that when the swelling finally subsided I would be able to work out fully on it, and start running again.

The pain didn't go away for much longer that time, and the swelling didn't go away quickly either. I just kept telling myself that God knew, and that He was the master physician and healer... and to trust Him. I knew better then to repeat past cycles of disappointment when my plans did not coincide with what God had for me. (The Disney 5K and bronchitis were both still very tender to my heart in the midst of the ankle). In leaving work and preparing for a move I was aware that the miles needed to get on my legs, and I needed to start getting in gear. I knew that my dreams of running the whole thing were lost to the ankle injury. But I was thankful that Emily was working hard at it, and that our PR would be fairly close. It was going to be ok.

However. The past few weeks I have been suffering from discomfort in my feet- not having noticed it since Bridal Christmas as work when I was struggling through heel pain. Maybe its because I hadn't worked all day on my feet for a few weeks, the move, or just timing... but this week has been incredibly painful. I take Gracie on long walks each day, but knew that it was time to get on the treadmill to see where I was at on time.

I walked up to the gym, got on it- and nearly completed a mile in AMAZING time, BETTER than pre-ankle injury... when my phone rang. Now, typically... the phone would go to voicemail. But it was Africa. And you can't ignore Africa. Seth and I caught up for a good while, and I went to finish my work out only to find teenagers in the gym taking over my space. Ok. I walked home. It was ok. I was able to gauge myself, and felt confident that 13.1 miles was going to be ok.

I woke up on Wednesday morning, placed my feet on the ground unaware of the fact the pain was going to reduce me back to bed. I could not walk. Literally. I stood and was able to place all my weight on my left foot, but my right shot excruciating pain through my body. With only 30 minutes to get Gracie on a pee break, and out to work I was beside myself- and didn't know what to do. So I started stretching it out, and finally was able to loosen the muscles up to slip on my sneakers. The silver lining? Was that Africa called and prevented me from 3 more miles!

A couple of days later I am thankful that my acute pain has decreased, and I am thankful for the wisdom I have received on the best course of treatment regarding this flare up... but a choice and decision remain that I'm just not ready yet to make. Or maybe, just accept.

With varying inputs the most consistent one is that 13.1 might not be the healthiest option. I know that if the 1/2 were tomorrow, I would have to say I couldn't do it. In the best interest of my body, and my health... I know that it would be unwise and foolish to think the impacting effects of exerting myself in that way would not have severe implications.

However. My heart. Is not ready to make that decision quite yet. My heart is not able to grasp that I have planning, cheer leading, and praying about this for 9 months. I made a choice, and I put myself and my health first and have had amazing results this year. I am so thankful for the weight loss, the esteem build, and while sometimes wavering- the focus to keep moving towards my goals. Not doing the 1/2 was not in the plan.

My spirit is still clinging tightly onto the way I viewed this to go. My heart is yelling at myself reminding me to trust God.

I wrote Matty an email yesterday about it, because he is about to leave the country and I was going to arrange his travel for the Disney Weekend I knew we needed to sort out what the plan was. His email was quick- and his last sentence saved the day:

"Don't think too much on it. Trust the Lord, and that He's got a much bigger plan than you can understand at the moment."

So. That is where my heart is. Trying to let go of what I thought, what I wanted... which I was able to do once this year for the ankle injury trusting that it would heal. Not having a single clue in the fact Plantar Fasciitis would come kick my feet's ass.

Trying.
To rest.
But I keep "running" in circles with my pride about having wanted to do this, and now realizing...
I might just be a cheerleader for Emily that night, and celebrating that my victory was not to be found in completing the 1/2 but making a choice this January that has made such a positive impact on my life and others.

(sigh).