Broken.
Race Day.
Slacker Half-Marathon.
Starting at Loveland Ski Area and down the mountain to Georgetown. I had heard an abundance of good things about the race ahead of race day and how gorgeous and fun it is to run. My legs felt good and my mind was in a great place. It was a perfect day for running. I initially signed up for this race on my own at the beginning of the year, and then convinced my friend Tiffany, a week before race day, to also run the race. My plan for this race was to train as hard as I could and be in the best shape for the run. Frankly, that did not happen, but there is something in me that loves last minute cram sessions. Whether it is homework, schooling or training; I excel at cram sessions. Therefore, my last minute preparations and training prior to race day were fabulous.
Pre-race excitement!!
We parked at a lower parking lot to grab Tiffany's race bib and then learned while we were in line, that the race start was approximately 3/4 of a mile from the parking lot we were at, and that the trail to the start line was also part of the race. I figured we would walk/run/warm up on the trail portion and scope out what the conditions were like on the trail. The trail was fairly uneven ground, with quite the multitude of rocks, varying in shape and size. Some loose, some stuck in their place. I made a mental note to focus on my footing in this area due to my tendency to roll my ankles. Tiffany and I talked our strategy for the race and how to navigate the first portion and did our pre-race warm-ups.
Tiffany and I lined up at the start line and started with the 3:00 pacer, to give us a nice slow start to navigate the rocks and treacherous trail start of the race. We ended up moving a little faster due to the slope and just our pace was faster than the 3:00 pace. We ended up catching up to the 2:30 pace group and the path narrowed. I ended up playing bumper cars with other nearby runners. During human bumper cars, a lady accidentally bumped into me; and started a chain reaction of events leading to an injury. I stepped on a rock, rolled my ankle and then instantaneous pain on the side of my foot. Though it truly felt just like a sprained ankle from the motion. But, there was also pinpoint sharp pain more on the outside of my foot, radiating into my ankle. Figured it was just a bad sprained and the 1 mile marker was near. I had barely started the race and in my mind it was time to keep going. At mile .77, I found out that it might have been a better place to stop than stopping at the finish line.
Tiffany and I walked the rest of the trail to the concrete portion and started back up running. I noticed that while running, I had a fair amount of pain but it seemed manageable. So, we continued on. During the uphills, I could not run, due to the pressure of pushing harder to propel myself forward up hill, and ended up doing a fairly slow walk with a very small gait to get up the hills. On the downhills, I could run at a mediocre pace with some to fair amount of pain. As the race progressed, my pain worsened. It wasn't until approximately mile 10, that I felt I could no longer continue. With the race being in the mountains there was little help around besides fellow runners. At this point, I figured I had gone 10 miles on whatever I did to my ankle, I could finish 3 more miles. It was the longest 3 miles I have ever experienced. My race consisted of a mix of running and walking; but, I was determined to run at least the last 2 miles to the finish line. My finish time was not at all what I was expecting to finish in, but I finished. I fought my head and fought through all the pain to finish. What I didn't know yet, was that my injury was going to be a lot worse than just a sprain.
As we headed down the mountains, back to Denver; my pain increased and the pressure in my shoe was getting worse. I figured it was purely swelling from my "rolled" ankle and that it was going to be sore for a couple weeks, which would require me to nurse the injury. Well, that was not quite what happened. Tiffany and I stopped for lunch at Chipotle; where I could barely walk on my foot without feeling like I was going to fall over or cry due to pain. There was bruising starting on the outside of my foot with a fair amount of swelling. I ended up admitting defeat and headed to the urgent care. X-rays showed a displaced 5th metatarsal fracture, a.k.a. a Jones fracture. While Ortho was in the room placing my plaster cast, I asked the dreaded question and found that my season was over. If I was lucky, and my bones magically came together and healed well; it would be 12-16 weeks before I was back walking and out of a cast and boot. Although, that time frame did not include the physical therapy and finding my endurance again. Yet again, I would be starting from ground zero, when I could finally train again.
The road on this broken foot has been the same as the initial mile of the race. Rocky and frustrating. My doctor felt that it was prudent to wait 6 weeks initially to see if the bones would come together and heal; instead of surgery first. I tried pleading with my doctor, that I had read the literature on Jones fractures near the base of the metatarsal with displacement; and most articles reported those patients had to have surgery. But, there was no convincing Tim. I found myself in a pretty pink fiberglass cast and a pair of the most uncomfortable crutches. Through my first 6 weeks, I had a great deal of complications with my fiberglass cast. From too tight to too loose; and positioning of my foot in the wrong angle, causing unbearable pain. Not to mention, the mental side of sitting around and not being able to train; really hit home some days.
Luckily, to really great friends and family, I was given some get well gifts and a lot of lunch/dinner/drive around town dates. My triathlon buddy and all around great friend, Alex, was just as devastated as I was, by my injury. We had 2 races planned to do together and in my mind, the most important race together, was the Santa Cruz Half Ironman. A few days after my injury, I received the greatest gift from Alex. A good book and a tough puzzle to keep my busy during my laid-up days. Along, with good books and puzzles; many friends stopped by, family visited from Florida which all made for a great way to keep my mind busy.
Low and behold, my fracture did not fuse together and I ended up needing surgery. Next stop, the OR. My surgeon has been absolutely amazing through this whole process and understands the need to get back to training and exercising; for she too is a runner. Of course, my surgery went a bit longer and she said there was quite a bit of new bone growth, that was impeding the bones from coming together appropriately and instead required some chiseling out of the new growth. Surgery was rough and my post-op period was also rough. Although, now I find myself out of the post-op period and now on the time extensive part of healing.
Six weeks of no-weight bearing to start, then 4-6 weeks of increasing weight bearing, to hopefully no crutches and full weight bearing. Even though, I am only half way through the first 6 weeks of no weight bearing; all-in-all things are feeling alright, with occasional days of bad pain and increased swelling. Next appointment, is at the end of the month and hopefully I get the all clear to slowly start weight bearing walking. If all goes well, end of October/beginning of November I will be out of the boot. Fingers crossed, come November, it will be back to training and exercising; in hopes of a better 2019 season. Wish me luck!!