Thoughts
The day almost passed me by.
But it didn’t.
Today marks 4 years since I started down this crazy road of chronic pain and all that comes with it.
It’s a good thing I almost forgot about it. That means it’s not taking over my life anymore. Thank goodness. But I did say almost forgot about it- it’s still something that’s there in my every day life. I’m thankful to be able to say it’s just part of my life and no longer all encompassing or even a burden. I don’t give it much thought and it doesn’t get in the way of anything I want to do anymore. My hands bother me more than my feet, which is a welcome change. I ask a lot of my feet everyday and there’s no getting around it. I can ask for help or come up with another solution when it comes to using my hands.
I’m never going to go as far as to say I’m grateful this happened to me, but now that I’m not in the height of pain I can certainly see the bright side. It feels a little fake to say I’ve been able to accomplish so many things in spite of the pain since I’m not actively racing or even really running right now, but it’s not my feet that’s stopping me this time around. I was able to finish a triathlon, 2 24-hour bike rides {1 while 13 weeks pregnant}, 2 half marathons, an obstacle race, and a handful of other races. That’s pretty good in my book. I was even featured on Fitness Magazine’s The Fit Stop!
Now I’m not running and racing because of other things in life. Good things. I miss it though, and I ache for the day that it’s back in my life. But I got it back once, I’ll get it back again- and there’s much less to overcome this time around. I do have to say, I’m terrified to stop breastfeeding because I’m pretty sure the hormones have something to do with the pain holding off… only time will tell. Until then, my fingers are crossed. As crossed as I can get them anyways. 
Injuries
I guess it’s about time.
Almost 6 months to the day since I wrote Part 2 of my stinky feet story.
Coming up on two years since it all started.
There’s a reason there hasn’t been a Part 3.
See, I always assumed Part 3 would be the one where I would tell you I had a diagnosis.
And seeing as I still don’t have a diagnosis, I don’t have much to tell you.
To be honest, I do everything possible not to think about it. I can’t write a post about it and not think about it, so I just never did.
But the number one most common inquiry I get is “How did you go from Part 2 to half marathons?”
I really don’t have a good answer, but I’ll try to fill in some gaps.
I left you at the part where I started taking medication for fibromyalgia, despite insistence from the doctor that that’s not what I had. It was a combination of a last ditch effort and quite likely a way for the doctor to get me to shut up.
The only sure thing was a had chronic pain. Fibromyalgia is a disease of chronic pain, so on the off chance the medication could help for generic chronic pain, we gave it a try.
And it worked.
It didn’t make it go away. It didn’t make everything better.
But it was enough to start getting back to my normal life. A new normal life anyways.
Running’s harder than it’s ever been. Every step hurts. It takes me 20 minutes to get my feet ready to go out the door. But they hold me up, and I run.
I haven’t worn these beauties in almost 2 years.
I should probably throw them out. Give them to somebody who can wear them. But whether it’s denial or just holding out hope, in my closet they stay.
Getting a “little bit” better has made all the difference in the world. I almost forget what it’s like to feel normal- I just know I feel better than I did last year this time. I guess I’ve just gotten used to it. That’s what people do- they adapt.
Running’s hard for different people in different ways. It may be hard for one person because they have bad hips. It might be hard for another person because they have small lungs. I don’t know. Everybody has their “thing”. This is mine.
I don’t think I’ll ever be thankful for this disease, but I do appreciate how it makes me see things. Everybody feels sympathy for a girl in a wheelchair, or a guy with no legs..but you never stop and think about what their life is really like- what they must go through every single day. I know no matter what I’m going through, somebody else has it worse. And there’s always somebody that has it worse that’s handling it better than you.
So on the days when I start on the landslide to feeling sorry for myself, I think of them. I think about where I am now compared to when I was at my worst. I think about all the things I can do, and I try not to think about the things I can’t, or the things I used to be able to do.
Next time you put on a pair a sneakers and go out for a run like it’s nothing, be grateful. Next time you slip on a pair of cute heels, be grateful. Next time you hammer a sentence out on the keyboard with ease, be grateful.
To me it’s not enough to think about those that have it worse (though I do)- I think about those that have it worse and triumph.
The lady at the ultramarathon that had to drop out of the race because it was so hot her prosthetic leg sweated off.
The teenager that surfs with one arm.
The triathlete that brings three legs with her to the race.
That’s who I’m thinking about.
Here’s my most recent update: The Outcome
