Have
you thought about your feet lately? Most of us don’t appreciate our feet the
way we should. We are too busy and take our mobility for granted. Until we can’t.
I recently learned this the hard way.
One
day in mid-January I was on the treadmill when my left foot suddenly started
hurting. I had gained a couple of pounds over the holidays, so I’d upped my
treadmill workout—nothing spectacular, just a bit longer at a slightly higher
speed. When the pain persisted for a few days, I hit the Internet for a diagnosis.
Yes, yes, I know—I should have called the doctor. However, I’d never had any
kind of sports injury before, and I was sure it was nothing serious. Besides, I
hadn’t done anything except walk on the treadmill. The pain was very localized on the top of my foot,
and after a little research, I decided it must be extensor tendinitis. So I suspended my exercise, iced my foot, and took ibuprofen.
But
as the weeks dragged on, the pain didn’t get any better. After six weeks
without improvement, I finally broke down and went to the doctor. He sent me to
a podiatrist, and the diagnosis shocked me—a stress fracture of the second metatarsal.
How could I possibly get a stress fracture from walking on the treadmill? I’ll
grant you I’m not as young as I used to be, but I’m not THAT old!
The
prescription was six weeks wearing a compression sleeve on my foot and heavy
hiking boots. Oh, and I was supposed to stay off my feet as much as possible.
Haha! I gave the podiatrist the benefit of the doubt because he didn’t know me,
but seriously, there was no way I was going to lie around the house with my
foot elevated for six weeks. I’d already been much less active than normal for
six weeks.
I
grumbled but complied, within reason, and finally the day arrived when I could
shed my boots and move freely again without pain. Yippee! I started to exercise
again, carefully. Again I was shocked. Three months of restricted activity had
destroyed my conditioning, which hadn’t been world class to begin with. It was
almost like starting from scratch. I also cringed at every twinge in my foot, afraid
I might break another bone. I’ve turned into a freaking little old lady
overnight!
When
I turned sixty last year, my mother warned me, “This is the time when
everything starts to change.” She was right. My injury has forced me to face
the fact that my body has changed, and I have to adjust to accommodate those
changes. I don’t like that. I’m no athlete, but I’ve exercised six days a week
for the past eight years. It’s my slap in the face of menopause.
Since
my fracture healed, I’ve gone back to the same schedule, but with adjustments.
I’m trying to be kinder to my joints by keeping my treadmill sessions at a
lower level for the time being and alternating days with strengthening exercises
with resistance bands. It seems to be making a difference. I do feel better and
have actually lost a couple of pounds.
The
best thing about being back on my feet is being able to walk outside again. It’s
not
Alison
www.alisonhenderson.com
