Roughly one billion things (give or take) have happened since my last post in September so I’m not going to recap everything but for anyone who tracked my run or checked my finish time in the Chicago Marathon, you probably knew something was wrong. I mean I’m no Kenyan, but I can hold my own.
So here’s what happened: I’m an idiot. I ran 26.2 miles knowing that I had a stress fracture and no surprise, I broke my foot around mile 16. Peeing your pants is cool, running on a broken foot is not. It’s dumb, it’s expensive (hello adulting) and it’s pretty dang miserable (that’s my 4th beer, pre ER and post 10 miles of crying).
So after a couple of months with a not so cool boot and even more months of no or barely running, I am finally back (like sloth-like back). I can honestly say that I am the luckiest duck and so fortunate to have such amazing friends, family and co-workers who called, texted, donated and cheered for me. A big shout out to my dad who has always been my biggest cheerleader (sans costume thankfully) and has always had my back.
And to my sister who donated, cheered, schlepped me around and is solidly one of the coolest people I know. And these beautiful goons who cheered, donated, carbo loaded, put up with my sweat, tears and boot and told me no when I tried to sneak out and take my boot off like a crazy lady.
People keep asking if I’m going to run again this year and while I’m leaning toward yes, I honestly don’t know yet. Until about 3 weeks ago I could still vividly remember the pain I felt for the last 10 miles of the race and my answer to you then would have been ‘Bye Felicia’. But I have healed and my competitive side (okay all of me) is saying I should go for Chicago 2016, so stay tuned. (Full disclosure: I almost compared this to forgetting the pain of childbirth but I’m afraid that might come back and bite me in the future).
P.S. I’d also like to publicly apologize to all spectators between miles 15-16 for taking my shirt off, it was REALLY hot out there.