I Wanna Shine On In the Hearts Of Men, I Want A Meaning From the Back of My Broken Hand

Tomorrow morning, I should be getting some answers pertaining to Boston, and whether or not I'll get to run there. While I may not have a broken hand or foot, things aren't looking much better than if I'd just broken my ankle in Moab.

I went to the doctor again this morning for a follow up exam on the left ankle, and the news was rather discouraging. While the swelling has gone down considerably, the ankle still is not entirely back to normal size eight days after I injured it. It's still tender to the touch, and though I was cleared to ride a bike and pool run/swim, running is entirely out of the question. I was advised that normally, she would not order an MRI at this point. With the short timeline between now and Boston, though, and totally getting how important it is to be able to follow through and run a race after putting in all the training, she got one scheduled for me tomorrow morning. This is the great thing about living in a community supportive of running. She'll be able to see and know for sure exactly how damaged the tendons are, and if I can, as she said "get away with" racing after taking things super-easy for the next two weeks, or if the tendons are so damaged that I'd be guaranteeing a long hiatus from running, permanent damage and/or surgery.

I know this is small beans and it's just one race, but it's one BIG race for me for a variety of reasons. It was a pipe dream back in 2007 when I ran a local 5K at what was my Boston-qualifying marathon pace, and was spent at the end. Still, I thought that if I worked hard and trained well, I could get to the point where I could sustain that pace for 26.2. The race is pretty important to me regarding the history of women in sport. I thought of what Kathrine Switzer did in breaking ground for us ladies years ago at Boston, and it really made me appreciate being on the course, and just blending in with everyone else that much more. It was SUCH an amazing experience racing it last year, but this was supposed to be the year to knock one out big time on the race course. Even if I can't chase down a 3:20 marathon with so much time off from training, just running the historic course and making that final "Right On Hereford, Left On Bolyston" with wall-to-wall spectators will be plenty fulfilling in its own right.

So, that's where I am. Waiting for answers and hoping for some good news. I've been overwhelmed with the support and positive vibes from friends, runners and nonrunners alike, and makes me feel almost a little sheepish because really, it's a race. It's an ankle sprain. Nobody's dying, and if they've held Boston for 114 years already, it'll probably be on again next year. Still, it's been reassuring to hear from friends who have been there and done that with this injury and others, or who just empathize with unexpected setbacks. A good friend and sometime running partner made the point today that it's not worth pushing my way through one race on a questionable ankle, even if I'm cleared as borderline, because of the big-picture and long term ramifications. He's definitely right. It's just hard, though, to reign in with the thing that, beyond being a mom, gives me the greatest sense of satisfaction. I'll try to get a good night of sleep tonight, and then will be up at o-dark-thirty in the morning to let the folks at the hospital's imaging pavillion do their magic.