Listen up kids; I have a story for you! Be happy to not hear it in person!
I had a great time in Chicago for my first ever Chicago Marathon, my 18th overall marathon and my first time running a marathon on a broken foot.
Yeah, you read that right. Thanks to a little **huge** mishap in the VA hospital’s radiology department, a left foot fracture was overlooked back in September and I continued to train on and run the whole race on a broken foot.
Let’s look at this from a positive perspective. I can say that with a smile NOW because I have spent the last three weeks livid; figuratively stomping around with a knot in my stomach over what could have been prevented. What good does that do? Here’s the good news: I’ve been reassured of what I already knew, that I am awesome at suffering. Tough, even. I nominate myself as a team leader during the zombie apocalypse, maybe even the “Governess”.
On October 11th I was well on my way to reaching my sub 3:30 goal when, somewhere between mile 16 and 17.5 my foot started hurting “much worse”. At mile 18 I felt something give and had to pull over. You can almost see “the unraveling” on my splits page, and I am typing this with a huge knot in my stomach recalling the, “My goodness something is really, truly, wrong” feeling. I had to walk over two miles between mile 18 and the finish, but managed to finish in under four hours (3:56:20).
A week later in podiatry a resident found the fracture … upon reviewing the September x-ray. It was right there, where I said my foot hurt. The attending agreed with her find and they ushered me right to prosthetics to get fitted for my walking cast.
I’ll just leave that story there, for now. I am still in said walking cast. Terse smile. Rage in my eyes. Fists of fury ready to strike. Deep breaths. New healthcare team currently being put into place.
BUT ANYWAY, I had so much fun spending time with my bro and his wifey and their adorable baby boy, meeting my Endure to Cure teammates, meeting an instant bestie I’d been working with over fitness journalism stuff, connecting with Andrea, who will whisk me to her love muffin’s sailboat in the Virgin Islands later this winter, and catching up with one of my sailors from my very first command. The energy surrounding the Cubs chance of heading to the World Series was palpable and I ate a lot of dairy, a true sign of me letting loose!
In the words of the great Vince Lombardi, “It not whether you get knocked down, it’s whether you get up.” And I always get up.
KILL! CRUSH! DESTROY!