Seventy days ago I had surgery to repair my torn meniscus. I'm a runner. I also love heels. Going without these two things left me with an extraordinary identity crisis. People began to realize that I was only 5'4" tall instead of 5'7". I began to enjoy walking quickly and my feet feeling comfortable. Who was I without running? Who was I without the shoes?
On New Years Day I began wearing heels again. It was inauguration day for Lansing's new mayor (aka my boss). I wore my favorite three inch booties all day. My knee actually felt okay. In the coming days I've been back to myself culminating in wearing my favorite leopard print wedges today. I am back.
|Inauguration day: wearing 3 inch heels and holding a sleeping toddler. Boom.|
I am registered for a 5k, 10k and half marathon the first weekend in May. That's only three and a half short months away. My body is skinny (thanks not having time to eat!), but I don't feel strong. I will be starting nearly from scratch as a runner, and it's going to be scary.
But just like wearing heels again my body will adjust. I can't wait to feel strong once again. Wearing heels is the first step to being me. I am once again amazed at the resiliency of the human body. I'm working more hours a day than I'm not, and I am waking up on the middle of the night to do work because neither my mind nor my body will take a rest. Yet in this chaos I'm finding myself again. One heel inch at a time.