fibula stress fracture of forever

Well, it’s been a minute, orrrr, almost a month, since I’ve written. These have not been my finest weeks. Turns out underneath that sprained ankle I had a stress fracture on my fibula, as you may have surmised from the title of this post. The fibula is that skinny lil bone in the lower leg. Just my opinion, but fibula sounds bigger than tibia, doesn’t it? Not the case.

It’s funny how in retrospect things start to make sense. I have had both a sprained ankle and a broken leg in the past, and this never felt like just a sprain. From the moment the pain began, it was sharp and shot up my leg like little volts of hot electricity. That is not how a sprain feels to me. These things are so subjective. The older I get the more frustrated I become with how to find a good doctor and communicate with him/her about what is going on with me. The questions they ask aren’t always the right ones. The nurse practitioner I saw had me straight on the path to worsening my injury, if I had listened to her.

I’ve been going to Cole Pain Therapy Group for the past several weeks and it’s been great. They listened, waited, tried some things, and finally arrived at the right diagnosis. Many people say that chiropractors are not “real doctors,” but I’ve had better care there than at any other MD office. It’s amazing how the lack of a prescription pad can enable a practitioner to look you in the face and actually listen to what is going on.

So, I’m in my eighth week of injury and I still don’t have the all clear to train again. I’m being referred to an orthopedic clinic to potentially be booted. And in my small endeavors over the past week–a few laps in the pool here, a few miles on the bike there–I know I’m not ok yet. I’ve made huge progress, mostly from resting, and I can even forget about the fracture sometimes. But, my office is on the second floor, my apartment is on the second floor; and when you are still clenching you’re teeth to climb the stairs, you know you aren’t ready for any kind of race.

I’ve battled some mild depression and increasing anxiety since I’ve been unable to exercise. I miss it like a friend! I’m jealous of people out running, even in the crazy heat. I didn’t run LuvMud and I’m 99.9% sure that the Mighty Mite Triathlon is out.

One reason I’ve avoided writing is that I’ve lost my main inspiration, which was training. Another reason is that it seems like I’m just repeating the same lame story again and again. I’m injured, I’m recovering, hopefully I’ll be able to run again soon. Blech. Booooring. And since I’ve been blue about the whole thing, other endeavors have fallen by the wayside.

But no more.

I’m fine tuning my diet a bit. Diet=what I eat every day, diet≠insane plan to drop weight at the speed of light. More on that later.

Even if I’m in a damn boot, I’m going to work on my fitness. I’m going to find an old pilates tape and do the best I can. I’m going to swim laps with a pull buoy (that’s a small float you put between your legs). I’m going to do crunches and lift hand weights, I just have to make sure I’m sitting down!

I’ve actually tried all of these things in the last eight weeks, but didn’t stay on track either because I became discouraged at my limitations or didn’t modify enough to avoid pain. From this point on, I’m making a way.

And I’m going to continue meditating for mental strength and visualizing my next perfect run, whenever that comes!

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