From fall 2015 through summer 2016 I suffered from plantar fascitis. It started in the early fall, and yet I kept pushing. I didn't listen to my body, and by Christmas 2015, I could barely walk. Three doctors and 1 physical therapist later - 3/4 of my medical team declared that I should not ever run again.
I've never smoked, but quitting running felt like what I imagine quitting smoking feels like?
It was a constant ache. I would wake up, and want to run. I would be out driving and see runners, and want to run (or run them over - jealous much?). It was a weight that I couldn't shake. Nothing was the same - I picked up my cycling (no impact), but still missed running. Yet, at this point, I was still struggling with walking. Running was out of the question.
By summer 2016 my heel was not hurting, but I was also not running. However, I could barely do anything. After months of blaming the southern heat for my constant exhaustion, addiction to chewing ice, and sky-rocketing heart rate I was diagnosed with severe/critical anemia.
I won't go into the whole story with this post -
there is an entire separate post about that ordeal, that I have not decided if I will publish. . .
interested? Let me know, and I might publish - butt (that's on purpose), careful what you ask for.
Short version is that 3 doctors, 1 surgeon, 1 surgery, and 5 months later, I am now fine.
This is the condensed version of why it has been over a year since I've blogged, why I haven't run, and why my 41st year was a health disaster. . .
Luckily, I am now in my 42nd year and all I have to do is navigate 2 kids and myself through a new state move.
Should be a piece of cake.
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