I'm super tired today. Just blah, you know? I think we all have those days. Today is especially difficult because I'm so sore and stiff. My left foot wasn't bending so well this morning, so even going downstairs was pretty difficult.
I blame myself, of course. I probably worked myself a bit too hard yesterday after walking 1.5 miles in 18:26 (then going on for my first 2 mile walk in 24:01!), then hit the treadmill for 10 minutes (only .34 miles there...walking still hurts), then I swam for 20 minutes. These times aren't stellar by any measure, but I'm proud. This is the farthest I've come so far since breaking my leg in September.
Long story short: I broke my leg jumping out of planes. Yes, my feet and knees were together, so don’t bother. Anyway, this is what the break looked like:
I blame myself, of course. I probably worked myself a bit too hard yesterday after walking 1.5 miles in 18:26 (then going on for my first 2 mile walk in 24:01!), then hit the treadmill for 10 minutes (only .34 miles there...walking still hurts), then I swam for 20 minutes. These times aren't stellar by any measure, but I'm proud. This is the farthest I've come so far since breaking my leg in September.
Long story short: I broke my leg jumping out of planes. Yes, my feet and knees were together, so don’t bother. Anyway, this is what the break looked like:
The surgeon informed me that they had to wait so long for surgery because the ER splinted the break on the fracture, forcing the swelling to get worse. That’s not so bad save for the fact that if they cut me open, they wouldn’t be able to stretch the skin far enough to sew it back together. At least, that’s what he told me. This is what they installed in my leg during surgery (it's steel, not titanium like the screws in my right knee...and I still don't set off metal detectors at the airport):
This was me getting stitches out:
Since all of this happened, life has been fairly slow and, well, boring. Before the break, I was never still. I'd hike, swim, snowshoe, kayak, run, and above all, be outside. Alaska is amazing for reminding us about the value of nature. No matter my mood, I always feel refreshed in the company of water, trees, chirping birds, soaring eagles, and the sound of grass, dirt, or snow under my feet.
The point of sharing all this is to give you a background and better explain why I'm so happy when I walk a mile or swim 1,000 yards. It's no big deal for the average athletic person (or even one who was once athletic, but now is the proud owner of a handicapped placard), but it's a huge deal to me.
Breaking my leg wasn't bad. It hurt, but not horribly. When it happened, I actually thought I had only sprained my ankle. All that aside, the hard part about breaking my leg was laying on my back for so long, not being able to sleep through the night for months, staying inside when the rain and snow fell, watching my unit deploy without me, and fighting the psychological hardships of major life changes. I'm an extremely independent woman and suddenly not being able to shop for groceries, cook myself meals, answer the door, climb a flight of stairs without a break, take a shower standing up, or even carry a dinner plate to the table killed my spirit. I've since learned to ask for help, but I'm still not good at it.
In the end, I feel I'm a pretty lucky gal. I didn't lose my leg. It'll come back. I'll always have nerve damage (I can't feel the top or side of my foot, which makes movement pretty weird), but I'll run and swim and bike and kayak and all that one day. I'm thankful for that.
The point of sharing all this is to give you a background and better explain why I'm so happy when I walk a mile or swim 1,000 yards. It's no big deal for the average athletic person (or even one who was once athletic, but now is the proud owner of a handicapped placard), but it's a huge deal to me.
Breaking my leg wasn't bad. It hurt, but not horribly. When it happened, I actually thought I had only sprained my ankle. All that aside, the hard part about breaking my leg was laying on my back for so long, not being able to sleep through the night for months, staying inside when the rain and snow fell, watching my unit deploy without me, and fighting the psychological hardships of major life changes. I'm an extremely independent woman and suddenly not being able to shop for groceries, cook myself meals, answer the door, climb a flight of stairs without a break, take a shower standing up, or even carry a dinner plate to the table killed my spirit. I've since learned to ask for help, but I'm still not good at it.
In the end, I feel I'm a pretty lucky gal. I didn't lose my leg. It'll come back. I'll always have nerve damage (I can't feel the top or side of my foot, which makes movement pretty weird), but I'll run and swim and bike and kayak and all that one day. I'm thankful for that.
