Baby Got Back

Since my inaugural rump kicking, shin terrorizing run a few months ago, I have only strapped on my tennis shoes for running purposes maybe three times. Two of those times have been in the last week. Tell me how sad that is.

I have to say I had a very reasonable excuse. Actually, I had two. The first was that I so severely injured my shins that first run, I could barely walk without shin pain for some weeks.

My second excuse was, less than a week after the inaugural run, a glass broke in our kitchen and I got a pretty deep cut from an overlooked shard.

shin injury + glass in foot = funny looking, unsexy duck waddle when barefoot.

shin injury + glass in foot = God does not desire for me to run. Or waddle like an unsexy duck.

It turns out that shard actually burrowed into my foot and I didn't realize I still had glass in my foot until it was still hurting a week later. I first assumed it was just that deep a cut based on the amount of blood that streamed forth from my injury. But, weeks into it, I still was unable to comfortably walk barefoot on it and grimaced if I caught myself walking certain ways. I ignored it for awhile, but finally went to the doctor about two months later when the pain intensified.

What my $25 co-pay got me was advice to soak it in Epsom salt water for two weeks and hope it worked its way out. After that, I was to go ahead and call a podiatrist. Which, my business degree didn't really cover, you know, medical stuff, but it seems to me that if glass has been embedded in one's foot so long the skin has healed over it, I'm not sure soaking it would coax it out.

But that's just me and my piddly little business degree talking.

Thankfully, it seems my body had already begun the process of working the glass out, which explains why the area was more sensitive near the end. I finally worked up the courage to cut away some of the top layer (grossssss...) and, lo and behold, two small glints caught my eye.

And, suddenly, my foot was healed! It is amazing how much pain two incredibly minute slivers of glass can cause. I'm sure there's some spiritual principle to be gained, but I'm too tired to put one together.

Also, my business degree didn't teach me how to put spiritual principles together.

So now the only problem is I no longer have an excuse to not resume running.

In fact, I've recently been given two very good reasons to restart.

My first motivation was when Noah and I were talking about killer whales.

You know where I'm going, don't you?

He remembered seeing them at Sea World and they came up in conversation the other day. I was having a good time reliving the pure glee we'd shared watching Shamu heave its enormous body onto the stage in front of us. Ahh, the laughter as its body rolled gigantic waves of salt water over us...

The walk down memory lane came to a screeching halt when Noah suddenly asked, "Mommy, are you bigger or is Shamu bigger?"

Oh. My. Word. Child.

Today, Tyler and I were looking at a picture of a brontosaurus. The illustration showed the brontosaurus next to a house to give some perspective. Tyler then looked up at me and asked, "Mommy, are you bigger than a house, too?"

Sooooo...if y'all need me, I'll be run-waddling down Lake Forest again in the morning, broken shins and self esteem and all.