Injured is my new normal. ‘Maybe someday’ is the new ‘Hell yes, count me in!’
This injury is creeping up on the length of a full-term pregnancy. My friends and family would probably agree that it has had just as many mood swings and terrifying outbursts of tears. I have definitely eaten more ice cream than most could possibly consume.
This month was another one full of false starts and uncertainty. I still can’t run. I still can’t olympic lift. Squatting is going okay. My feet were doing well and then fell apart over the course of a busy day. I’m ending the month trying to settle down my plantar fascia and strengthening everything so it stops happening.
A recent doctors appointment has me hopeful that the end is near and terrified that I’m days away from gut-wrenching news.
But in the meantime, I’m doing my best to stay relaxed and not worry about my doctor’s ominous warnings of potential surgery, tendon/ligament tears, and fractured bones. I’ll deal with the reality and severity of my ankle injury next week after my MRI narrows down the extent of the damage.
Until then, I’m going to lift. See you in the gym!
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