One thing I failed to mention about the Passover trip to Asheville was the hobbling. I’ve had a nagging pain in the ball of my foot for several weeks now (since before the ING race), and the Friday before Passover, I aggravated the injury while biking to Octane. I was headed through downtown (near the CNN center) when the mini van in front of me made an unexpected stop to get directions from a passerby. Just as I was about to squeeze past the guy while trying to stay out of the adjacent lane, he started driving again, so I was forced to make another quick stop and then push-off to get back into the flow of traffic. Something in the push-off made my foot explode, turning the rest of the ride into a wincing fest. The soonest orthopedic appointment I could get was for the following Wednesday, so I spent the weekend in Asheville “walking” on the outside of my foot.
The verdict from the orthopod is “most likely a stress fracture” in the sesamoid bone underneath the big toe (i.e. medial sesamoid), which bears most of the weight in the ball of your foot. Vague diagnoses drive me crazy, but I applaud the guy for not wasting my time (and money) with additional imaging services to confirm what didn’t show up on the traditional x-ray. I’m sentenced to a fancy walking boot until my follow-up appointment on May 14th, at which point there will be an MRI (or possibly a bone scan) if the pain persists. The boot resembles a ski boot, and it’s apparently invisible to the naked eye because on several occasions people have been in the same room with me for more than 10 minutes before they realize I’m wearing it.
I’ve had stress fractures before. Two, to be exact – one in each shin (at the same time), so I know it’s not the end of the world, but the psychological damage is still permeating the logic barrier in my brain. Running has been one of the ways I’ve stayed sane in this ill-fitting city, and now I’m resigned to alternate means of stress relief. Swimming is an option, especially since I broke down and bought a swim season membership to the Emory pool. Walking will be okay in a couple of weeks, and I suppose biking will too, but for now I’m in the whining stage, so none of these options are appealing compared to drenching prospects of a 6 mile run.
To add fuel to the self-pity fire, my hand me down computer is on the fritz, so I have potentially lost a great deal of pictures from the last 2 months. I’m waiting to hear back from the tech guy at Charrow’s school. If I hear the word “reformatted,” I may actually throw the damn thing off the back stairwell. Maybe it will hit the truck that takes up at least 2 spots on any given night because the owner is spatially challenged. The plus side of having to share a computer with a full time student is that I’ve been forced to start on the overwhelming stack of New Yorker magazines that I’ve been avoiding. How do people keep up with it??