RANT MODE: ON
So. Today I'm blogging about some stuff I don't ordinarily write about, but it's been a rough couple of days, and I just need to let off some steam. The steam has cursing (just so you know).
I have plantar fasciitis. Both feet. I talked about it here. Well, it's been at least a year since I've been working with the pain, and at least six months since I went to a foot doctor and he diagnosed it.
I've done what I'm supposed to do, but it's not going away.
Most days it's manageable, but I take anywhere from 8 to 12 Advil every day, and when I forget, I pay for it. I stretch. I ice (OK - I forget to ice sometimes because it hurts like hell to ice your heels). I'm icing now (really, I am). I wear nothing but my walking shoes and Dansko's (all those cute shoes I have? Well I never get to wear them anymore). I never go barefoot - I mean JesusHChrist I even put my clogs on when I wake up in the middle of the night to pee.
So yesterday, I have a flare up. By the end of the day, I was in really awful pain. I was at the club working out with my trainer, and just standing was hurting. I came home and I took 4 Advil and went to bed. I usually don't take it right before bed because it can be a little bothersome, but I really hurt. And I didn't sleep, because my fucking heels hurt so damn bad that they kept waking me up. . .
Here's another thing I don't do anymore. I don't walk anymore. I am a walking athlete. I'm not kidding. I had a walking program going like you would not believe. I used to get up and hit the treadmill pretty much every day for at least an hour, often an hour and a half, and on weekends it was not uncommon for me to do a couple of hours or more. I really like walking. It's my cardio of choice and it's best for me. Or it used to be . . . It's good for pretty much everything in my body. Except apparently I didn't stretch enough - or so they think, and I got it AFTER I lost a bunch of weight. And really, who the hell stretches after they WALK?!
So, in an effort to heal, since February I've completely given up walking for cardio exercise. I'm riding my recumbent bike instead, but an hour on the bike is somehow just not the same as an hour on my feet. I've given up all cardio walking - and I really miss it. The only walking I do now is to and from the train every day and whatever light errands I might need to do at lunch time. I used to regularly have 10,000+ steps pretty much every day by the time I got to the office in the morning. Now, I'm lucky if I get 7,000 just in general walking around.
I hate this, but I keep focusing myself to the positive and how I'm swapping out riding for walking "while I heal," and how I know I can walk again soon.
Except I'm not getting better and this flare up is just so damn disheartening (and if you know me, you now know how much this hurts for me to be saying this stuff since I'm THE most positive person in practically the world. I'm not kidding. I think maybe only Wayne Dyer is more positive than I am).
So, today I'm on day two of pretty constant pain - enough so that even with 4 Advil and breakfast and another 4 at lunch, I was having a hard time focusing at work. At lunchtime, I walk over to my WW meeting and the week's topic is this great 5K that they are challenging everyone to train for (and which I could do in my SLEEP if my heels didn't hurt) and my body just slowly filled up with sadness. I was sitting there, just listening to the leader and other members talk about how they walk and how they started walking, and how easy it was for them to walk, and it was like the sadness came in through my feet and just filled me up until it got to my heart, and when it got there, I thought my heart would break. I had to leave the meeting because I thought I was going to start sobbing because the sadness had to go somewhere - it was spilling out my heart.
Oh A, you're so dramatic . . . you're over-reacting . . .
Maybe so. But maybe not. I was always the kid with the book. I was always picked last for any team sport my entire life. And if you were naturally athletic, you probably don't get this at all - But I had to work to find something I could do and enjoy and stick with. I tried a lot of stuff over the years, but finally - I finally found something that I was good at. Something I could do on my own, any time I wanted. I got the right shoes and the right socks and I just kept going. Something that was healthy and helped me be healthy. Healthy and strong. Something I rocked so fucking hard that I became an athlete. That's major. That's HUGE. I'm an athlete. Me - the kid with the book.
I finally found something athletic that I was really good at - and it was snatched away from me. Where is the lesson in this? I'm trying to find it . . . What am I supposed to be learning? WHAT?!?!
It could be worse. Well, no shit, I tell myself, Of course it could be worse. There are a million things worse than a whiney woman with sore heels. So many horrible things in the world - and nothing matters to me today except that I can't walk like I want to. Call me self-absorbed, call me selfish - actually, no, please don't. Stuff will matter to me again tomorrow, but for today, I get to be sad. Tomorrow will come (the sun will come out, tomorrow . . . ) and things will be looking better, in fact, I've already taken steps to ensure that things will be better, but for tonight, I'm just howling, just getting it out, and if you read this far, thank you very much.
RANT MODE: OFF
So, two days of intense pain again, coupled with that rush of sadness today made me realize that I cannot continue on like this. The first foot doctor I went too wasn't much help and he wasn't much interested. So I'm going to see another one. I'm just waiting to hear back from my regular doctor about possible next steps (which I think might include PT and perhaps an MRI to see if they can tell what's going on in there without cutting me open). It's been suggested that I see a Sports Medicine Podiatrist - so I'm hopeful that I will get to do that, and sooner rather than later (and with a bazillion major sports teams in Chicagoland, there has to be some sports guy who deals with heels).
We return you now to your regularly scheduled programming, already in progress . . .
::::walks off to the kitchen to put the gel ice back in the freezer . . . :::::