I broke my foot. This is my first official broken bone. I’ve been in plenty of accidents, trips, falls, drops, etc. Never broken a bone until last night. The prognosis is a non-displaced fracture in my fifth metatarsal. The fix is three weeks with a boot and crutches, a visit with a podiatrist, and probably another three weeks of taking it easy.
There are many terrible things to say about this. Of all the shit I’ve done to myself in all the years of my life, my first broken bone comes from tripping on an upraised bit of sidewalk during a low speed, short distance run. It’s embarrassing, truly. And then I had to walk home 3/4ths of a mile because I didn’t tell Katie where I was going and I didn’t have my phone. Adrenaline continues to amaze me as the walk home wasn’t particularly painful. It was when I woke up this morning that I couldn’t put any weight on it.
Another embarrassing fact: it happened on my first run of a training program leading up to my first marathon. Not only am I out of commission for six weeks, I’ll be six weeks behind on training. I’ve already paid for this marathon, and you probably know I won’t give up on it regardless, but it sucks.