I have been off of my ankle for almost two weeks now. I’ve been antsy, agitated and annoyed that I can’t run. Running has been an important way to release steam, and literally pound my pent up anger and emotions into the ground. Not having that outlet to unleash and set myself free like that has been difficult. I can feel the shift in my mood. I've turned into a sour puss.

Since I was left with no choice but to take it easy while I let my swollen ankle heal, my husband convinced me to use this down time as an opportunity to get started on some on resistance training (I think he just wanted to find a way to help unleash the "antsy beast" that overtook his wifes mind and body, but regardless of his intentions, it sounded like a good idea).

Mark helped me develop a simple routine on our bowflex machine. Aside from discovering I’m a complete and total wimp when it comes to weight training, I have actually found myself enjoying it. I was so opposed to using it while I focused on my endurance and running abilities (and especially didn't touch it when I was pregnant) that I was shocked to discover how fun weight training is. Using the bowflex adds a certain level of variety that running doesn’t give you, and requires much more concentration to ensure you have proper posture and breathing.

Before my doctor’s appointment to get my ankle looked at last Monday, I lugged my sorry ankle to the Running Room to get my feet properly fitted with some shoes built for running. As embarrassing as this is to admit, I haven’t had a new pair of running shoes in over nine years. I have been running with an ancient pair of shoes that apparently, aren’t even considered a running shoe (I guess the old expression, “If the shoe fits…” does not apply to running shoes or anything that looks like a running shoe).

Much to my own defense, I never wore running shoes for anything before I actually started running. After college it was steel toed shoes, and then when I ditched the field work for a lazy office job, it was heels, heels and more heels.

Now that I actually require some proper gear to keep up with my activity level, I am finding it astounding (and sorta dorky) that there is such a science behind how you walk and move your feet and how that impacts the type of running shoe you need.

Apparently, after some embarrassing monkey acrobatics on top of a bench in a busy store, it has been determined that I Pronate.

If I understood the running shoe expert correctly, my right foot pronates a bit excessively and it is causing stress on my ankle and causing it roll over more when I run as the ankle tries to absorb the shock and impact of my feet hitting the ground.

This new word that described the underlying issue for my ankle predicament sounded terrible, but I was assured that all of us pronate or supinate, and the extend to which we do this and how much pressure and shock we are applying to our bodies will determine the proper shoe to wear.

I also discovered that the proper running shoes size I require is a size 9. I regularly wear an 8, so that just sounded ginormous to me, but he assured me that if I don’t buy that size my toenails will go black and fall off from rubbing on the tops of my shoes. ‘Nuff said. Comfort and practicality, before style and daintiness! Got it!

The running shoe expert, of course, finished up by chastising the socks I brought with me to try on shoes with. Apparently my socks do not meet space age running socks standards because they aren’t designed to assist in the evaporation of sweat and moisture. He tried to sell me their “technical socks" at the ridiculous price of $12.00 a pair, but when asked if he could give me written guarantee that any pair of socks he sells me wouldn’t be sopping wet and stinky after running 10km, he backed down.

The following day, I drove to the doctors, and much to my expectations, my doc suggested that I probably tore a ligament, and told me to keep icing it, supported and elevated as much as possible.

So, all that being said, my ankle is feeling much better now. I am still off my foot until my new shoes arrive on Wednesday. I don’t remember the last time I was so excited about a pair of shoes that didn’t have 3 inch heels spiking out the ends of them.

Oh how I miss running. It’s as addictive as chocolate, only, much healthier.

Labels: It's All About Me