The 3rd Edition

December 6, 2008.

it was 3 years ago, but it might as well have been yesterday. Two of our friends were getting ready to tie the knot.

My best friend and her husband knocked on the door as I slipped into my pink silk party dress and quickly tied the sash. I begrudgingly tugged on my black tights hoping they’d at least do a little something to protect my legs from the biting early winter cold. I stepped into my favorite pair of black heels and we headed out the door.

It was during the lull between the ceremony and the reception that I first noticed something was wrong. I was sitting awkwardly on a grey faux-leather ottoman, trying to be at least somewhat ladylike in my fancy dress. All the 20- something’s had gathered at a friend’s house until it was time to head downtown to continue the celebration. It was then I noticed the front of my left foot bothering me. I surreptitiously slipped out of my heel and rubbed my foot a few times. I chalked it up to an uncomfortable shoe.

Already? I’d barely even walked in my heels yet. I ignored it and continued to get wrapped up in wedding excitement as we piled into a couple cars and headed downtown.

When I woke up the next morning the pain still lingered. “I guess I better get some new running shoes”, I thought to myself. I’d only run three miles the morning of the wedding, but it looked like I might be heading down the path of injury. Not surprising…I’d been putting off getting new shoes for awhile, optimistically holding out until the next pair of my favorite DS trainers were released.

I brushed the dull pain off for a few days and took it easy on my feet, but when it started to bruise I knew this wasn’t something that was going to go away on its own anytime soon. If only I knew then just how long it would be.

Dec 6, 2008. It was the start of a beautiful marriage for our friends; it was the start of a long trying journey for me.

I never forget that it hurts, but it’s become such a part of my life, such a part of me, that I often cease to acknowledge it. It’s just a part of me, like having brown hair and arms that don’t straighten. It’s only when I have to cave in and ask for some help opening a jar of peanut butter or a bottle of water that I remember just how bad it was. I’m so grateful to have gotten past the worst of it, but perpetually frustrated to still be dealing with it.

To slip on shoes and run like a normal person; to tie the laces without difficulty. The things I used to take for granted and never will again.

I still wonder if this is where the story ends- a poorly written cliffhanger that just leaves everything hanging as is; no closure, no sequel, no answers.

I wonder if I’ll be able to hold my baby or change a diaper in the middle of the night when the pain is at its worst.

I wonder if I’ll be able to gather up the courage to run through the pain again, or if getting through it once is all I had in me.

I wonder if it’ll ever go away.

One thing I don’t wonder is where my life would be if this had never happened. As with any major decision or event in life, like choosing which college to go to, the things that come afterward may never have happened otherwise. Without this, I’d probably still take running for granted; I’d probably still be at a job that made me miserable; I’d probably never have signed up for a triathlon; I certainly wouldn’t be blogging.

Good or bad, the things that happen to you in life shape who you are, and pain or not, this is who I am.

Tagged as: feet, injuries, look back, wedding