Sweater, Rosegal | Skirt, eShakti | Boots, XOXO | Ear Jacket, Forever 21
Photos by Alura Chung-Mehdi
I usually find comfort in routines and patterns, but this one is different.
This one reminds me of my frailty, the confines of my capacity.
"Does this hurt?"
I sit on a table in the sports medicine room while a trainer performs a series of mobility tests on my foot. Biting my lip, I shake my head and respond "no," to the repeated inquiry, though sometimes the poking and prodding prompts a cringe and a nod yes.
I can't believe I'm here again.
After several run-ins with overuse injuries, I vowed to train more cautiously this time. I carefully alloted rest time and dedicated half of my workouts to low-impact cross-training. The last thing I wanted was a repeat of the fall--due to patellar tendonitis, I had been unable to run the marathon I had so greatly anticipated.
But an overly-ambitious long run two weeks ago provoked a nasty blister, and that blister led to running form compensation, and that compensation landed me in the trainer's for foot pain.
And so I add yet another intimidating name to the list of ailments I've experienced: tenosynovitis, or inflammation of the sheath surrounding a tendon.
I'm not sure how this one will play out, but I do know this: I can do nothing to influence the outcome beyond diligently performing rehab exercises and listening to my body.
Let's do this.
* * *
I've been feeling off lately--not only because of my foot but also schoolwork, specifically disastrous midterms and unpolished papers despite hours of thought and preparation. Life has been challenging some integral parts of my identity. I am a distance runner--but what am I if I can't run? I am a diligent student--but what am I if my grades don't reflect that?
I forget sometimes that it's okay to simply be human.
I am human, and I will stumble, fall, completely mess things up. But from disaster emerges the opportunity to learn and improve.