Three Broken Toes.

I’ve been training for the DC Half, which is on March 11th. I’d been doing really well. I added hills into my routine in hopes of adding some much needed support muscles. I’m also quite fond of running in the snow, so I bought a pair of Yaktrax. Not that there’s been much snow, but every time it has snowed, I’ve made sure to hit the streets. I love snow running.

About a month ago, the top of my left foot began to hurt. Nothing I couldn’t deal with, so I continued to run. Then it got worse and worse until and about a week and a half ago when I finished a 3-miler and was limping.

I haven’t run since.

I was pretty sure that my injury was muscular and therefore temporary and if I simply laid off of it for a while, it would heal. But it seemed to be getting worse. So yesterday I made an appointment for an X-ray. I had that done today.

The good news is, it is indeed muscular and should heal in time for my half in March. (I need to get some mileage in if I want to do any sort of decent time.) The bad news is? I HAVE THREE BROKEN TOES. WTF.

The doctor actually LAUGHED at me. She’d look over at the X-ray, put her hand on where the (very obvious) breaks were, she’d squeeze and say, “Doesn’t that hurt?” And I’d say, “Not really, I mean, I don’t know. They’re toes.” 

So, yeah, THREE broken toes. Two on one foot. One on the other. Nothing I can do about it either. They are basically useless. They don’t bend anymore at all. One looks like a frozen miniature hotdog. I might as well give them to the dog.

But I did find out something even more upsetting: I have pre-arthritic feet. Now, she reassured me that it doesn’t point to rheumatoid, which is what BOTH of my parents have. But the metatarsals on my THIRD and FOURTH toe are longer than the second, which isn’t how it’s supposed to be. That is a sign of pre-arthritic feet and that just makes me want to explode into tears.

Normal Foot:

My Foot

But I am not going to give up running. She suggested I start swimming. I didn’t go into the whole problem with my ears. Maybe biking. I don’t know. But giving up running is like asking me to give up my Prozac. Or food. Nope. Not a chance in hell.

So. That’s that. Stupid feet.

Ah, medical shit.

On Thursday, I have to go through another PDT treatment, which, for whatever the reason may be, was some of the worst pain I have ever experienced. I mean, I gave birth to three babies. I nursed them through bloody nipples. I had mastitis. I apparently run on three broken toes and have been for who knows how long. I feel like my threshold for pain is pretty high. But this? I don’t know if it’s because I have sensitive skin (freckles, pale as shit) or what, but it was mind-glowingly painful for me.

So I’m dreading that.

Sorry for the whiney post. I’m actually in good spirits these days—happy even.

But today? Beaten down a bit. And I’ve got some lyrics running through my head.

What a drag it is getting old
“Life’s just much too hard today,”
I hear ev’ry mother say