Simply Begin Again. These may be the three most important words we learn in meditation: Simply Begin Again. For the uninitiated, here’s a short primer. You’re going along your merry business, you know - meditating, thinking about thinking about nothing, doing your thing, then *BAM* you’re thinking about something. D’oh! No worries, you simply begin again. It’s the cornerstone of a meditation practice that helps you clear your mind and feel a sense of stillness.
Progress? Stillness, however is something I’m decidedly NOT good at. After the highest of highs and the lowest of lows that capped off 2016, we spent most of 2017 wrapping up the remodel of my chest and getting back to normalcy. Late in 2017 our time was gladly invested in some family matters that put training on the back burner. Even so, the swim, bike and run fun seemed to be progressing along nicely. Well, progressing nicely save for continuing to baby an Achilles problem that has oscillated from a niggle to a sidelining injury for several years.
A Team Win! By March 2018 we had a nice solid win in the books for #TeamEdwards. I took third place female amateur overall at the Olympic distance Lavaman and Mark also had a super fun race. There we also had a good visit with my brother. He jokes that if we come 3,000 miles, at a minimum he can come 200 and had made the trip over from Oahu to join us. All in all - good times and things were looking up.
*** A Team Edwards Win **
Turning a Page? We headed home from the Big Island ready for the next chapter…. except this one seemed to never end. Family concerns continued - they were by far and easily our priority. The Achilles seemed to throw up a flag with any sort of distance, speed or trail work that could lead to building to an Ironman marathon. I kicked the can down the road on a couple of Ironman registrations and registered the first DNS (Did Not Start) in my IM career. Sigh. Perspective.
Checking the Boxes. Summertime came and I started really making sure I’d checked all the boxes on getting my foot right for running:
- I ran slower and slower and less and less. It got worse. Dangit!
- More physical therapy. I find PTs are usually miracle workers, but alas, the magician was out.
- Tons of massage. It didn’t fix the foot but we’re keeping it in the maintenance protocol! You know, purely for the physical benefits…
- Switched to a completely whole foods plant based diet. Nope, this didn’t fix the foot either but is by far one of the best decisions I’ve made in my life. Also a keeper.
- Changed shoes. This showed a glimmer of hope but ultimately wasn’t the winner.
- Revisited my lab work. Yep, all good in the ‘hood.
- So. Much. Yoga. Obviously keeping this one as well but nope, not a fix for the foot.
A Second Opinion. Fine. By fall of 2018 things had settled down and I finally went to a doctor for a second opinion on my foot. One x-ray and MRI later, it turns out I had been misdiagnosed several years ago and had been rehabbing the wrong injury. The doctor came out with a “you have a very interesting heel” and a genuinely surprised look as he pulled up the image. Officially I was battling a couple of things that would never go away no matter what I threw at it. These including what’s called a Haglund's Deformity on the back of the heel and what turned out to be a cyst in the bone where the tendon inserts on the outside of the foot. Yep, that spot riiiiight where it hurts most. Whelp, at least I hadn’t been imagining it. We dub thee: Frankenfoot!
*** MRI Image with the Two Main Culprits ***
A Gameplan The solution was complete remodel of of my ankle around the Achilles area. The surgeons would hack off the Haglund’s deformity making a clean path for the Achilles to move over. Additionally, they would detach the tendon from the bone at the point of the cyst and carve it out to get to some fresh, happy bone. Then they’d reattach it with threads strung through three holes drilled in my heel. Finally, they would perform a gastrocnemius release to loosen the tight calf in an effort to “future proof” it against other maladies or recurrence downstream. The surgery had a high success rate and a long recovery period. I waited for the punchline. It would be at least four months to even think about a return to running. Cue meltdown #1.
Again For some reason not being able to run AGAIN almost exactly two years since the last surgeries began was really hard for me to get my head around. I’d never made it back to the form I expect of myself or been able to race an Ironman in the interim. I was frustrated I'd been barking up the wrong tree for several years. I’d seen people come back from horrific accidents, babies, Lyme disease, etc. yet I couldn’t get out of first or second gear. And now I was about to go back into park. Again. And not be able to run for several months. Again.
*** Herb Brooks, Coach of the 1980 USA Hockey Team ***
Demolition Surgery was held in early November and by all accounts went well. Mark was, as always was a trooper and put his Super Sherpa skills to work. I was nicely drugged up but surprised, frankly at the pain level. Turns out, even though you may have been through worse, when shit hurts, it still just hurts. Especially when the nerve block doesn't work. D'oh!
*** Demolition Day! ***
I have a new friend, Scooter, that gets me around the house okay and binged watched Nurse Jackie all the way to the finale the week after the surgery. Needless to say I was doubly motivated to get off the pain meds! Meltdown #2 occurred sometime in the middle of the first week. I’d backed the foot into the dishwasher on Scooter (OUCH!), hadn’t been able to do any semblance of exercise since before the surgery and the internal workings of my digestive system had come to a standstill. Right. Off the Oxy we go. Meltdown #3 was a sneaky sucker. It crept up at the appointment where the surgical splint came off and the cast went on. I'd been hoping for a walking boot but that idea was quickly laid to rest by the doctor. And frankly, it looked and felt horrible and no where near ready for walking. Frankenfoot indeed.
*** Frankenfoot at splint removal and casting. ***
*** From Diagnosis to Surgery to Suture Removal and Casting ***
Warning: This clip contains images from the actual surgery and of the suture removal. If that isn’t your thing - give this one a pass!
Onwards. This is what training looks like for the time being. I’m swimming with a waterproof cast cover dragging “Frankenfoot” along slowly, but successfully. Much to Mark’s chagrin, I figured out I could spin gently on the bike with the cast strapped in (safety first!) to at least break a sweat and keep my mind right. And I’ve taken a stab at water running which is just as boring as it sounds. Pro tip - bring tunes! Hopefully next week more restrictions will be removed and we’ll continue to progress. My fingers are crossed to be allowed into the hot room to start making my way back to yoga, even if that means just rolling around in a puddle of sweat on the floor. Right now that sounds downright glorious! I’m taking my mom’s advice and keeping my eye on the prize, one day at a time.
*** Current "Training" Protocol ***
Gratitude. I am grateful for my health, which in the grand scheme of things is pretty darn good. I’m grateful for Mark who puts up with whatever shenanigans I may drag him through, including this episode. I’m grateful for my family who support my decisions and parents who brought kitteh presents on their visit to their housebound kid. I’m grateful for my friends, their random check-ins, humor and for the coffee dates I had almost daily for the first couple of weeks post surgery. I’m grateful that the training I able to do right now is just a glimpse of what it looks like every day for physically challenged athletes. Some day I will not be able to do these things. Today is not that day. And so we simply begin again.
