Aw, yeah!

So, I made it to the running shoe store tonight to see the PT gal, Molly.  Guess what?  She said I can run!  

Wahoo!

I've refrained from blogging, as I've been feeling so much better the past couple days.  I figured if I blogged that I'm better, I'd surely jinx myself.  

See?  I was right to be so cautious!  

Molly said I've been doing all the right things: stretching,  resting, icing, elevating, leaving my high heels in the closet, and putting my orthotics in my pathetic flat dress shoes.  All this has sent my nagging pain packing.  And now she said I can run!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, man, am I pumped!  She suggested I try running just a couple miles at first; one mile with my orthotics, one without.  I'm so there!  Unfortunately, my next few days are going to be crazy busy with dress rehearsal and concerts.  Running the morning before two long concerts on risers is probably not a smart idea, so I'll rest a couple more days.

Sunday is my big day.  I don't care what the weather is.  I'm gonna be outside running!

Isn't this great news???  

oh no!

Nope.

I refuse to believe it.  No, no, no!  There's no way my lovely high heels can be the cause of this ridiculous achilles pain.  Absolutely not.  How could high heels be anything but wonderful?   They look great with skirts, dresses, pants, and even jeans!  They make a fun sound when I walk the halls of my office.  They help me reach great heights, literally.  There is simply no way they could do anything bad at all.

Yesterday I popped into Run Away Shoes to have them make sure my running shoes were not the cause. http://runawayshoes.net/ That lady was so nice.  For one, she ruled out any problems with my shoes.  For two, she told me about a free assessment they have there periodically.  I'm so there.  Maybe they can figure out why I have a funky gait and how to fix it.  Surely my gait is more likely the cause of this and NOT my sexy heels.  :)


You see, there's something very wrong here.  This is not supposed to be happening.  An injury is completely unacceptable, much less one that requires I stop running.  For the first time in my life, I have been LOVING working out.  I'm freaking proud of my accomplishment after every run.  I'm quick to get moving in the early morning darkness... and the pounds are falling off at a steady pace once again.

Injuries happen to other people.  Right?

Alas, here I sit... in pain...searching countless web sites for a miracle.  I rest, ice, elevate, use my beloved "stick" to roll my calves... come on, Miracle!  Let's get moving on this already!!!

I will beat this.  I will beat this, and be back in sexy shoes AND running shoes before I know it. So help me!

Game on, Achilles!  Game on!

Bring it.

Cheesehead 5k

First race in four years.

I Want More

My last race was great.  I got a medal for my 5k, which I know is a rarity.  Love it!

I don't mean to complain or anything, but I'm still feeling a little ripped off.  The swag was lacking.  The drawstring backpack was fun enough, but the junk inside was really just junk.  And yet, I can deal with that.  What I'm really bummed about is the other stuff.

I want the goods.  I want the better post-race snacks.  I want my name on my bib.  I want the bigger crowd along the route.  I want the fancy wicky t-shirt and slicker backpack swag bags.  I want the text messages sent to my BF as I cross mile markers on the route.  I want more...

I want the bumper sticker!

I don't want some measly 5k bumper sticker.  Nuh-uh.  I want a good one.  I want the 13.1.

So, that's it.  That's the silly thing that's got me motivated.  Not the BF's sweet way of gently asking (regularly) if I'll ever run a half.  Not the knowledge that my weight will fall off faster if I increase the miles.  Not even the better t-shirts and medals.

The bumper sticker.

It will be mine.  Oh yes, it will be mine.

Gimme.