Do you see this man?
He looks like a nice fella, doesn't he? Secretly, I think he looks like the lead character in that Pixar movie, "Ratatouille" but maybe that's just me.
This man has played a pretty big part in my life. He has been there at my lowest point and taken care of me. He is not my husband. He has seen a side of me that so many have never seen - a rather disgusting side, if I'm being honest. He is not a family member. But he should be...he knows more about me than a lot of people in my life know. You could say he knows me inside and out - and that would be an accurate statement.
This is Timothy Steiner. DR. Timothy Steiner to you and me. A man who knows intimately how many pieces of metal are currently growing into my bones. He was right by my side when I was wheelchair-bound and was learning how to walk (the second time). He gave me that disapproving look when I would proudly straighten my elbow for him and he wasn't satisfied with the range of motion. He doesn't mince words. And he doesn't mess around. And, that's good, because he shamed me into doing my physical therapy for 6+ months. And he healed me.
He's an expert in the field of sports medicine and he specifically works with athletes (even though his office is usually full of old people). He's the best kind of doc because you go in complaining of ANY type of pain and he will ALWAYS take an X-ray right then and there to find out what's actually wrong. No random diagnoses pulled out of his ass...just the facts.
I love this man, but I'd hoped I wouldn't ever have to see him again.
When I started running, I had a sinking feeling that I might need to get re-acquainted with the brilliant doctor. And, tomorrow, I will beg him to let me come in and see him...so he can tell me good or bad news about my ankle.
I'm pretty scared...because, frankly, if I hear the words "don't run for a month" or more...well, I know it won't make sense for some of you...but it will devastate me. But, if I put it off and try to ignore or ice the pain away, I will most certainly hear those words at a later date. I promised myself I'd go at the first sign of pain. Just as I won't break my promises to myself of consistent healthy living, I can't break this one either.
For now, I'm going to somehow drag my butt out of bed at 5am tomorrow and head over to the YMCA to see what kind of fun torture they have for me there that won't put any pressure on my ankle. It's not the same. I won't lie to you. I don't really want to do it. But...I know it will make me feel better and stronger. And, God knows, I NEED to feel stronger.
So...I'll keep you posted. I'm kinda down right now. But I wish you all the best week ever. Keep sparking, friends!!!!