Change is afoot. Or a leg. Or maybe just an enflamed left ankle. Right now as I prop my legs and ankles up under ice packs it seems like change blankets all of my lower extremities. Three weeks ago I started running again after not running much at all since before that horribly cold day in 2002 when I broke a bunch of bones in a car accident. The doctors thought I probably wouldn’t be able to run again on my left ankle—that the bones would probably have to be fused. I would be able to walk passably, but not run, they told me. That all made sense, considering I had at that point a freshly inserted titanium rod from my right knee to my ankle, several screws in my left ankle, and screws and plates in my wrist. (No, I don’t run with my wrist like a monkey, I threw that other hardware factoid in for effect) Well, the doctors were wrong. I didn’t need any bones in my ankle fused. I didn’t even need the bone graft they thought I would need in that ankle. They saved the bone grafting for my leg and wrist with bones from my hips. I strongly urge you to never need a bone graft.
|Back then, just being pushed on a walk wore me out.|
with a burning passion of a thousand suns, didn’t care for running, and
because it’s been painful to run the past ten years I haven’t pushed it. I didn’t
need any encouragement not to run. I’ll do workout DVDs while the boys nap and
go to the little gym at our condo clubhouse—spend some time on the elliptical machine
or with the weights. I’ve belonged to
other gyms over the past years and kept myself in passable shape until I got
pregnant. It’s kind of been a blur since then. My workouts were reduced to carrying
growing infants up three flights of stairs and squatting to wipe up various body fluids. I’ve tried to work out and I’ve kept from becoming a fat lard done a decent
enough job, but nothing like what I should be doing. For some reason a few
weeks ago Brian and I both decided to start running again. It’s just so easy. I mean, no machines, no gym, no
gear, just you and the ground. And wherever you are you can find ground. So I’ve
been running mostly outside on a route I really like, but a few times on a treadmill at our gym. I’m
honestly shocked. I’m enjoying it. And the titanium inside me is not falling out or breaking like I always imagined it might. The first time on the treadmill was one of
the first times I ran and I was SLOW. But tonight I picked up my speed and ran
three miles, and only partially because I was watching Harry Potter and the Chamber
of Secrets and I wanted to keep watching it. I also felt good. So that’s one change: I’m running. And oddly, I like it.
Change number two: The boys are in bunk beds. That’s right. We bunked ‘em up. So far no one has fallen off with the exception of stuffed animals and books. It’s a little like crib on the top because they haven’t figured out how to climb down. The top-bunker is trapped. If only the bottom-bunker could be too. The problem is that Cal is on the top bunk and he loves to shout orders to Clark. So Clark runs around the room, picking up certain books, pulling the CD player over, shooting basketballs, playing with the night light turtle, putting weird things in his mouth, all things that Cal tells him to do and then laughs at. They haven’t come close to falling asleep on their bunk beds for nap time; we still have to separate them, one on our bed, one on the top bunk bed. It’s obnoxious. But at bedtime they fall asleep fine. There’s something about the darkness I guess. No toys crying at you to be played with.
Change number three: I traded the small lamp in the living room with the big lamp on our nightstand. Lighting has slightly improved.
Grand finale of changes: My next post will be my 100th post on this blog, and to celebrate I am going to be introducing some big and super cool changes to the layout. I know that all you devoted Whispers and Shouts fans will be waiting with bated breath until I post next and the awesomeness spills forth. On my 100th post I plan to make it a love fest to you— my dear readers— and at the same time unveil the new look that is being custom-made for me by an awesome artist.
Change is afoot! And now I can't feel my foot from all the ice packs.