Walk Softly, Have Hope

This is a good reason to be an early morning triathlete.  The view on the way to ride yesterday.  Ahhhh…

Oh, yes. My feet still hurt like hell.

The Swim Bike Boy Child said, “Mom, that foot looks like a dead foot.”

I don’t disagree with him.   I mean, look at it.

I feel like someone is going to swoop in, scream, “Hot Sauce Hell! That’s GANGRENE!” and lop it off.

(I’m sorry. From sunrise to dead foot. Horrible juxtapositioning.)

My right foot hurts almost as bad (I have a jammed big toe joint), but there’s no bruising at all, which is bizarre considering how its left friend looks.  I can’t “toe up” (on either foot), so that means no running. I couldn’t consider running if I wanted to today.  I can’t really walk well either, though I am forcing myself to do it.

So focusing on what I can do?  I can swim.

(^^^This was a little camera fist bump for the swim, Neverending Story
5,200 meter swim on Sunday.  3.2 miles in the pool.)

…And with a little pain, I can also bike.

I learned today that flat roads are nicer to the foot than hills, but c’est la vie.   I rode tons of flat miles yesterday.  Today, hilly miles.  Flat is better.

I told Coach Brett that the bike really is just a case of “suck it up, buttercup”–because I can ride.  It hurts to ride.  But it’s not unbearable. Since nothing is allegedly broken in this gobbledy goop of a foot, I have to suck it up.  I can’t lose my mileage.

I’m now less than 8 weeks out from 140.6, lawdy.

I was panicking after my trip down the stairs (the fall) on Friday, but managed to have a good weekend with the family. We all went to the mall on Saturday, and I limped around, knowing that movement is a good thing.

The Swim Bike Girl Kid got some new bling for the ears. Ears pierced! (Of course, I never let anyone get pierced or tattooed alone… so I let her pick out my earrings [matching hers, of course], and I got a few more holes in my head.)

So despite the gimp feet, there was still some decent weekending AND training going on.

This morning, Coach Brett and I went on a little ride.

Well, my ride was little  (1:30), compared to his planned ride of oh, around 5 hours. Ironman Chattanooga for the dude at the end of the month!

We took off on the same route that about killed me a month ago, so I was interested to see how I held up.

Especially considering the foot situation.  I was more time-crunched today than anything, not getting started until almost 9:00.  (I won’t give Coach a hard time for forgetting his tri top… so that I had to run home and snag my way-too-small-for-me Couer d’Alene jersey for him.)

The good news?

Well, he didn’t have to wait for me at any stop signs today.  I know he was riding nice and easy, so he could have certainly dropped me had he intended to.  But, I think he rode like that last time–and I had no semblance of keeping up THEN.

“You’re looking strong,” he said.

“Yeah, well, I have this coach who makes me ride hill repeats every single week now.”

And THIS time, Coach B didn’t have to threaten to expose me to the world if I took a cab home.

Yes, it’s true… the last time, I said I was going to sit on the curb and call a cab… I’ll admit it. There.

It was a great, sweaty ride.

I am hoping that I can get running again soon–maybe by the week’s end.  I am doubtful, but hopeful. Hopeful.  I can’t imagine putting an impact on these toes at the moment.  But on Friday, I was *sure* my feet were broken and the sky was, in fact, falling. Hopeful is a good place to be.

So things can change, and quickly.

For example, the kiddo on the left and the right are ours. Walking to school, across the street, to real school. That’s something that has changed, and quickly.

I swear… they were just babes.

And then, when I broke my footin 2012, I was reminded how quickly everything can change.  One moment you’re up walking… the next, you’re on crutches.  Or I am, rather.  Swim Bike Klutz.  (I never injure myself actually in  triathlon.  It’s during simple things, like walking.)   But yes, things change during those crazy, quick moments.  And these are just small examples…

Life is so very fragile.

I’m trying to treat myself and life around me with a little more fragility.  A little less stomping around, and a little more cuddling.  Lots of hope.  And looking on the bright side of things.

Walking softly, and carrying a smaller version of The Stick.

Have a great rest of the week, friends.

And thank you to everyone who an application to the 2015 Ambassador Program.  Decisions will be finalized no later than November… but maybe sooner.  Maybe not, though. 🙂