My body is seriously fighting my decision to be a runner. I want a new body.
On Saturday, after 2 weeks of pain, I talked to my sister Kim, runner extraordinaire, and concluded that I have shin splints. Awesome. She gave me some good solutions. I decided to run as much as I could stand and just speed-walk the rest of the time.
Today, my body decided that walking was a challenge. The trillion times I went up and down the stairs were excruciating. My feet and ankles joined in the chorus of pain, right along with my shins and hips. And I even took the day off yesterday. But I thought, "I'll just get on the treadmill after I put the kids down and walk to loosen myself up." Despite the fact that I haven't lost a single pound or fat roll anywhere and my morale is low, I don't want to quit.
But it seems I have no choice. Since Monday is the day I wash the sheets, I was putting Eva's bed back together before putting her down. As I stepped over to reach the far corner of the mattress, I kicked the corner of her dresser REALLY hard with my left foot. It hurt so bad that I instantly started crying without even thinking about it. Eva ran over and stared at me and said, "Mommy owie!" I prayed my pinkie toe wasn't broken. I still don't know if it is. It's been about an hour, and putting on my shoes to walk on my beloved treadmill is out of the question. My pinkie toe is fat and swollen and I'm limping even more than earlier today.
Maybe I should have picked an easier, low-impact sport. Like air hockey.