First, this is hilarious. And I promise, someday I’ll stop talking about the marathon… but, it’s time to talk recovery.
I read several articles about what to do in recovery. How your body reacts after you ask it to run 26.2 miles. How you go through a bit of a let down. How it’s much like recovering from a bad car accident… but nothing prepared me for the way I’ve felt the last few weeks.
First, let’s discuss a bit of what happened in the hours after the marathon. The gastric disturbance that hit me like a tidal wave is something I won’t soon forget. I cried out many times from the bathroom that I had done “irreparable damage to my body!!!” And “someone make it stop!!!!” A shower, a long bath, some prayers, an exorcism of my intestines, and multiple trips to the toilet later, I finally thought I might actually survive. My entire body was spasming at one point. My fingers were shaking. I wasn’t hungry at all but had to force myself to eat a banana and a RX Bar to get some calories in. The plan was to order room service, but I made us get up and get out and go to a restaurant. That was probably the best thing we could have done. The first several steps were hard but the more we walked around the better we felt. And wearing our bling around town felt pretty amazing :).
The muscle soreness lasted for days on end. Never again, will I run a race on concrete roads.
Also. My toes. The saga of my toes has consumed the majority of my conversations the last 2 1/2 weeks. 5/10 are black. Some partially, some completely. One developed a blood blister underneath the nail and I was able to pop it and drain it. It was both fascinating and disgusting.
5 days into recovery, my big toe on my right foot began throbbing at night when I was sleeping. By Saturday morning, I couldn’t take anymore. I decided to try to trim my toenail.
A biblical around of reddish, watery fluid shot out across the room. I screamed. I lightly pressed on the nail, and gallons more poured out. I ran to my husband in a complete freak out.
THE PAIN BEGAN. Imagine the pain of cutting your nail way too short… so short it’s bleeding. And then you shove that nail into a bowl of lemon juice, hot sauce, and salt. And then multiply that by 10. I was crying and praying and blinded by pain. I finally found relief by coating the toenail in antibiotic ointment with pain relief and wrapping it in a bandage.
Somehow, I managed to put on heels and go to a wedding.
That toenail is still threatening to fall off. It’s half black and liquid still oozes out after I shower. I think there was a huge blister under the nail and I popped it. And now there’s a gap under the nail. It’s so gross.
And no. I’m not posting a pic. There are plenty of pictures of runners toenails online if you want a visual.
And while Brian has every other runner issue known to main, he does not suffer from black toenails 😂. Lucky guy!
As far as running goes, we took the advice of several and took a solid 7 days off. My first day back, was the day of the toe incident so I didn’t do well at all. Brian, however, ran a 30 min 5K. Jerk.
Our next run, I could feel every single muscle in my legs. Both hamstrings were super tight. I ended up with only 2 miles.
I’m finally back to running 3 miles with a 10:45 average, but it’s been slow going.
Now, the let-down. The line that keeps running through my head is from a Lauren Daigle song “You Say.” It goes “Am I more than just the sum of every high and every low? Remind me once again because I need to know.” The last three years have been full of lots of lows… lows that drew me closer to God than I ever knew possible. And mountains of highs… celebrations of miracles God has done in my life. And suddenly, I am finding myself in the mundane. Nothing on the horizon. No great challenge to concur. Just God calling me to be still. Be quiet. And wait for Him to give further instructions. I hate waiting. I hate being patient. I’m a doer. A mover. A shaker. A get-it-some girl. I’m not a be quiet and still girl. God knows this. But He also knows I can be very obedient and loyal… and so here I am. Quiet. Reading my Bible and praying. And waiting. Waiting for His call. He knows He already has my “yes”. I thought it was insane when He called me to run a marathon, but I said yes. He knows that if He asked me to move to Antarctica tomorrow, I would pack up and go. But He’s asking me to be quiet. Be still. And wait. So here I am.
Are you finding yourself in a place of recovery? Maybe you are coming out of a huge trial and trying to get used to the mundane. Or maybe you’re coming off a mountaintop and finding yourself folding laundry and catching up on “This is Us” and wondering if this is where you’re meant to be at this moment (like me).
Let’s pray together, shall we?
Dear Heavenly Father, You are faithful. You have walked us through countless valleys and celebrated with us on many a mountaintop. God, we know YOU can do ANYTHING through us and God we are anxiously awaiting Your next move. We want Your perfect Will for our lives. But God, we also know there is beauty in the waiting. You will meet us here. Just please help us to be patient in the waiting. Help us to be obedient. Help us to submit and prepare our hearts for what You’ve got planned next. We love you. In Jesus Name, Amen.