Distance: 0.0
Pace: 0.0
Broken
toes: 2 (likely)
Days to
marathon: 28
Ever since
my 18 mile run, I’ve felt physically ready to run the marathon. My plan was to keep up with my training runs
to maintain and possibly improve speed.
I spent 10 days up in the mountains for Christmas and New Year's. During that time, I did not push the
running. I didn’t want to hurt my Achilles
overtraining on hills and I was wary of the ice collecting in shady parts of
the sidewalk. My mantra has been “get to
the start line healthy.” Plus, after 10
days in the mountains (which, despite my slacking, did include a fair number of
runs), I figured I’d be a beast for a few days upon returning to the lower
altitude. I was looking forward to my 15
mile run the first Saturday of January and then my 20 mile run the following
week. After that, taper and coast my way
to marathon day. That plan was rudely
interrupted at 6:55 on Friday morning.
During my
normal 6:30 am boxing class, we were doing a drill where we bear crawled across
half the length of the mats and then transitioned to a crab walk for the remaining
half. Of course, I was going as fast as
possible so as not to be shown up by Jack Rabbit and the rugby players in
class. As I swung my leg under me to
move from bear crawl to crab walk, my toes caught on the mat and I heard a loud
“POP” similar to a really good crack of the knuckles. I went numb upon looking at the little toe on
my right foot, which was sticking out sideways in a highly unnatural
fashion. “I think I broke my toe!” I
yelled, regretting it immediately because I felt like a giant wimp in front of
the rugby girls who had probably suffered much more severe injuries. I quickly added “I need to run my marathon!!!” in an attempt to salvage some pride. I pushed my pinky toe upright, amazed it didn’t
really hurt. In fact, I couldn’t feel
much of anything except adrenaline pulsing through me. I got some tape and
buddy-taped my two little toes together and resumed working out, trying to
process what had happened. The pain did
not set in for a few minutes and, frankly, was not all that bad at first. If it wasn’t for the upcoming marathon, this
wouldn’t have been a big deal. But the
marathon changed everything. I was
scared that I might have wasted all my good training and PISSED that such a
freak accident might take me out of the race.
The pain steadily grew and I couldn’t concentrate on anything except
whether I could run the marathon. So
after about 20 more minutes of class, I called it a day. By the time I drove away from the gym, I was
in tears – not because of pain, but because I couldn’t stand to be so close to
a goal and fall short.
(This is not my foot. Sadly, I did not have the presence of mind to take a photo of my toe before shoving it back into place. If I had taken a picture, however, this is what it would have looked like.)
I stopped
home and showered, picked up Daughters #1 and #2 so Husband #1 could go to his
own doctor appointment (he tore tendons in his hands New Year’s day – together we
are keeping Urgent Care in business), and drove to Urgent Care. I also texted Slo Jo with the bad news, expressing regret at not having taken a
picture of my dislocated toe. It would have
been great for the blog. Normally I
wouldn’t go to Urgent Care for a broken toe.
But I was concerned (1) about my ability to run and (2) that my toe wasn’t
in the right place. As an initial matter, I was impressed that despite being in pain and in a panic and having just finished a workout, my heart rate was only 59 bpm. This is really a testament to how running (and other exercise) impacts your body in a good way. Next, the doctor confirmed
that I had dislocated my toe, based on my description of what happened but told
me I had put it back in the right place. (To which, I thought "Sweet! I should be a doctor!") He felt around my foot bones and determined
they were intact. By this time I
realized that the toe next to my little toe was also extremely painful (I hadn’t
been focused on it because at no point had it stuck out sideways). The doctor agreed that I probably broke both
little toes. He said we could x-ray if I
“really needed to know,” but the treatment would be the same whether they
confirmed a break or not: buddy tape the
toes and wait for the pain to go away. I
asked whether an x-ray might make a difference in my ability to run. He seemed perplexed and I explained that I
had a marathon to run in 30 days.
Clearly not understanding the need for ongoing training, he told me broken toes will feel better in
about a month, meaning in time for my marathon. I patiently (and
hopefully in a non-condescending way) explained that I could not sit around for
a month and then expect to run 26 miles.
I needed to know whether I could train before then. After a few awkward go-rounds, told me what I needed to know: regardless of what an x ray said, I could run so long as I could tolerate the pain. The breaks (assuming they existed) were
stable and I would not damage them further by running. He said the first three days would be the
worst for pain and swelling, then I should start feeling better. All I heard was "yes, TST, you can still run." I opted not to wait around with the kids for an unnecessary x-ray.
(This was my foot shortly after returning from Urgent Care. And those are the shoes I wore to my office that day, my poor timing further emphasized by the fact that some seriously heavyweight dignitaries were visiting my office that very same day. I hope they liked my fashionable Havianas.)
(This is my foot on day 2. About half my foot is purple, but fortunately, the pain is limited to the two little toes (particularly at the base). Purty, right?)
So, of
course, day 2, I went to boot camp. I
was actually bummed that I wasn’t doing a 15 mile run (how’s that for a change in
attitude???). Possibly because he felt
sorry for me, Coach K, our instructor, had us spend most of the 90 minute class
doing weights. We then went outside and
pulled/pushed weight sleds. I found I
could do this at a decent speed if I used a limpy stride, keeping my weight on
the heel and inside of my right foot.
Doing this for a training run would probably negatively affect my
joints, but I could use it in short spurts to participate in boxing class. We finished up inside hitting the heavy
bags. If you are using proper boxing
form, you rotate on the balls of your feet when you punch. This caused me great pain. Coach K, who was familiar with broken toes,
having broken all his at various points, had me box on my knees. That way I could still get proper rotation in
my core without hurting myself. My toes didn’t
feel great afterward, but I was proud of myself for working out. Then I spent much of the afternoon elevating
and icing my foot. During this time, I signed Husband #1 and Daughter #1 up for a 5K color run -- part of my dastardly plan to turn us into a running family.
(Day 3. I think the bruising has finished spreading and will now start to turn all sorts of fun colors as it heals.)
Day 3 was
back to boot camp. This instructor was less sympathetic to my plight.
I told him I broke my toes and could still kind of run, but my stride
was really effed up. We started by
running laps, which I did in my limpy stride.
(After my first lap, he said “Whoa!
You’re right! Your stride is
totally effed up!”) We then did a
circuit that involved jumping. I did a
lot of exercises one-legged, but kept up with class. Ultimately, I was able to modify or just
suffer through everything we did. We ran
quite a bit and I started transitioning a teensy bit of weight onto my
toes. It hurt. A lot.
But I could (barely) tolerate it.
It made me hopeful that I could run properly in a few days. Perhaps I can even tackle my scheduled 20
miles on Thursday. We shall see. I’m not giving up on this marathon!
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