I like to think that I am fairly well-balanced person 90% of the time. I'm a reasonably intelligent, grounded and emotionally mature young lady (can you still say that when you've reached your late 30's? Just askin').
I'm not a big fan of drama either. You know what I'm talking about, don't you? Drama Royalty (Queens AND Kings because men, you are NOT immune). Some people get a paper cut, hangnail or something equally insignificant and, I swear, it's like you cut their arm off. EVERYTHING is a big production...EVERYTHING is a crisis, blah, blah, blah. It's all I can do after listening to it over and over again not to give them a good old fashioned dope slap while shouting, "SNAP OUT OF IT!"
Having said all that, let me share the following story with you.
Christine and I did our last LONG run on March 28th before the start of what shall now be known as "the terrible taper". For those that are unfamiliar with marathon training or the concept in general, tapering means cutting back your training, so that your body can rebuild to peak strength. It allows your muscles to repair and your energy systems to store up glycogen. In other words, it's wicked important.
We ran for 3.75 hours at the perfect long slow distance pace. As we were running, I felt some friction in the bottom of my right foot, but nothing that I couldn't handle. Oh, and I did I happen to mention that I was trying to break in new orthotics???? We'll get to that later.
Once the run was over and we started walking, I noticed the stinging a bit more, so I took off my shoe. Oh yeah. There it was. The start of a gigantic B-L-I-S-T-E-R. Can you say gross? It was about the diameter of a quarter and it was already starting to puff up. Nasty. I didn't even want to put the shoe back on for fear of having an explosion. So, in my stocking feet, I walked back to my car and drove home.
Then of course, there is always the "to pop or not to pop" debate. Do I leave it alone? Do I poke it and drain all that stuff out? I didn't have a run on my schedule until Tuesday, so I let it go for a couple of days. Monday night rolls around and it's still there, so I finally decided to perform surgery. After draining it (am I grossing you out?), I applied triple antibiotic ointment, covered it with 2 bandaids and called it a day.
So, I run the next day and the right orthotic STILL doesn't feel right. I could actually FEEL my sock scraping across my foot as I ran. But, I had the bandaids protecting it, so I didn't worry too much. Remember, I don't like DRAMA. Just chill, Bill. Everything is a-okay.
I bring the orthotics back to the chiropractor, explaining that I had gotten a blister after my long run and felt like they needed to be adjusted. He whips out his heat gun, bends it back and forth a bit, and then gives me an adjustment (no, he didn't use the heat gun on me). Now, I should be all set, right? Off I go on my merry little way.
I took my Lab's Biggest Loser Platoon out to a healthy lunch the next day. Some of my more ambitious members decided they wanted to walk to and from the restaurant, which is 2.3 miles each way. Great, I say! And hey, let me go with you!!! So, the new orthotics and I go for a nice 45-50 minute walk there and a 50-60 minute walk back (they wanted to take the long way back). Again, the burning in the arch starts. Now, I'm getting a bit annoyed.
I get home, take off the shoe and gasp. What used to be a healing blister is now this hard, reddish mass of Lord knows what and it hurts! Like to even put WEIGHT on it! Hurts! Did I happen to MENTION that I am running a MARATHON???? Soon??? Like this MONTH????
Oh, did I happen to mention that I hate DRAMA????
Well, apparently, I forgot.
I proceeded to have the meltdown of all meltdowns. My heart starts beating out of my chest...I type "blister" in my google search engine and start reading every possible article I could on how serious my affliction was. I had visions of having an "alien like" experience with some foreign body emerging out of my foot. I am convinced that the sky is falling, the world is ending and my marathon hopes will be dashed...after all my hard work.
This went on for three days. Remember, I don't like DRAMA.
After telling my good friend (who also happens to be a physical therapist AND a triathlete) about my plight in an email message, she responds, "LOL, first, take a deep breath. It's a healing blister that's supposed to change a bunch of colors. Of course it will be tender and sore if you keep poking at it and thinking about it while running." Then, she advised that I get some of those blister band-aids (the ones that you can actually leave on for a few days) and go run. Oh, and the most important thing: ditch the new orthotics! BAD time to try and break these in.
What's that I hear? The voice of reason???
I took her advice and am happy to report that I've successfully run on it for the past three days and, dare I say, it looks and feels better!!!
Now that I have some clarity, I can see how ridiculous my behavior was. I completely overreacted and was convinced that this was the end. My life as we know it, was over.
As far as the Lazarus House and my fundraising goes, things couldn't be better. I've exceeded my goal by $181 and people are STILL asking if they can donate! How cool is that? Here is my page:
Only eleven days until Boston! Can you believe it? I will be ready.
But for now, I'm going back in my glass house. :-)