Saturday I considered writing about my goal to one day run a 5k. If you’ve ever mentioned anything about running to me in the past, I probably mentioned in return that I hate running. But come September, the Color Run will be in town and if you’re going to run, might as well have bursts of color coming at you to distract from the panting and leg wobbling. Instead of jotting that down, I decided to try jogging. I even got an app to direct me between walking and jogging so I could work up to it. And that sore calf from Tuesday’s yoga? It’ll loosen up.
Well, it didn’t loosen up. Not exactly. I got maybe a mile from home on the path when it felt like that left leg burst. It didn’t really but there I was, in the middle of a path nowhere near the street. I called the hubby and explained/whimpered/cried the situation to him. He came to save the day. I don’t know what I would have done without him because at that point, walking was not an option. He carried me a third of a mile until we were able to take the path into another neighborhood. Then he continued to run all the way back to where the car was parked and drove over to pick me up. By the time he brought the car around, my mind was made up, we were headed to the doctor’s office.
On the way over we took turns moaning in pain. While I had done something to my calf, he had strained his back carrying me. I randomly had a few suckers in my purse and we chomped on those all the way to the appointment, trying to focus on something other than the pain. He wheeled me in and asked for an ice pack from the front before sitting down. And then promptly returning to the front desk to request a second ice pack for himself. We were quite a pair. They took a few x-rays, put on a splint and handed over some crutches and a prescription. By the time we got home, all either of us could do was lay on the couch watching Netflix while we iced our respective injuries.
Despite the severity suggested in the first appointment, Monday’s doctor visit said otherwise. I’ll be on crutches a little longer and maybe do some physical therapy, but I’ll be alright. I’m very thankful to not need surgery or have to deal with this long-term. But most of all, I’m thankful for my husband. This whole ordeal was somewhat ridiculous, but it was one more reminder that we are in this together. And depending how long it takes to fully recover, there’s a good chance you’ll see me attempt that 5k anyway.
