Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Scared.

Tomorrow at 2:30 I am meeting with the orthopedist to see what on earth is going on with my foot. I can walk, but it is certainly a challenge.

I don't like going to the doctor. For anything. Which is a shift that happened somewhere in my late teens. When I was a kid, I LOVED the doctor. I loved everything about it. I used to wrap my arm and pretend I had a sling.

Now I loathe it. Everything about it. The thought of going to the doctor just freaks me out a little bit. The thought of a doctor telling me that I can not run freaks me out a lot.

I have friends that are athletes, performers and just extraordinary people. I watch TV. I know who Sam Bradford is. I keep thinking to myself mind over matter. Just breathe through it. It will go away. You can heal yourself. Think good thoughts. Think foot ok. Think foot ok. THINK FOOT OK. It still stinking hurts.

I know I HAVE to go. Luckily my mom and my husband won't get off my back about it. But I don't want to go. I don't want to end up in a boot. I don't want to not be able to participate in a marathon for the next few months.

Now I sound like a kid.

I must admit, I have been enjoying showing off my ankle brace....LOL.

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