On May 21, I left behind 586.48 miles.  All the miles I ran up until this day simply stopped.  That was the day I got the infamous Princess Purple Cast.

4 weeks later, the cast was replaced by a boot.  more weeks later, I thought I could run.  I took my running shoes to the Orthopedic Doctor, and my hopes were dashed when he looked at me…stunned.  I said, “I can run, right?”  He said no.  6 more weeks of non-running.  This is a total of 14 non-running weeks.  I’ve blogged about it, and ruminated over which is better:  swimming, biking, treadmill or stairmaster.  The answer?  Ugg.  None of it.  I just really miss running.

One of the key factors to this stress fracture was the fact that my Vitamin D was VERY low.  The doctor put me on 50,000 mg of Vitamin D…to be taken 1 time a week.  It’s a teeny pill that I hope will be a factor in my return.  I’m 53 years old.  I need the Vitamin.

I weighed 179.8 the day I was casted.  This morning, I’m at 187.2, a fierce 7.4 pounds of weight gain.  Way too much.  At first, it was the 3 pounds of cast.  Then, it was the 4 more pounds of eating bad stuff.  No excuses.  I’m back on LiveStrong and daily journaling.  I head to the gym again today to somehow combat this slide with mental attitude and good habits.  I know better.  I really do.

I lost my job in May.  Actually, it was the day after I was casted.  The day after the MRI.  All of which was covered by insurance.  I lost that too.  Since that day, I have put in 132 teaching applications (coupled with 20 or so prior to May).  I have gone on several interviews.  One that I walked out of…and in each interview I felt confident and hopeful.  Only to have the hopes dashed a few days later.  I’m 53, at the end of the payscale, with 25+ years of experience.  If you look on any teaching salary schedule, you will see that a new teacher can be contracted for half of my salary.  That being said, I long for the days of simple elementary school teaching, and I kick myself at times for leaving that first love of mine.

2 months ago, Harley Guy and I resumed our relationship, but it is so different from the first 1.5 years, that we call this Book 2.  We were apart 2 months, then realized that whatever happened before, we could work through again.  I haven’t written about it, barely posted about it on Facebook.  It proves only one thing:  You can’t help who you love.  I don’t care about any history, as long as you learn from it.  And we have.  I have.  There are footnotes in my brain that detail how we reconnected…but, it’s private and just ours.

We decided that we would continue to love each other.  So much so, that we now are in Book …many chapters to an ongoing love story.  We spent Summer weekends on the central coast, just enjoying.  I don’t know how the story will end, but I’m willing to keep reading.

The women in my life rocked me through this time.  I was held to a higher standard than I ever thought possible by a sweet Southern Belle friend of mine.  She encouraged me to seek my better self…and though I can’t blog about this yet, it continues to be one of the biggest blessings of the Summer.  As I’m typing this, my Florida gal chimes in with:  Is today the day?  My Fresno Runner pal posts on my timeline…Today’s the day!!!! Sending you hugs and best wishes!  Cherry Pie continues to hold my hand with daily messages and chocolate! And then… the love of the LADodgers held my Rocky Mountain galpal and I in good stead just when we were ready to close a chapter…another loss that was saved.  Now, if only my Boys in Blue could do the same for this tilt-a-wheel baseball season…

So.  98 days.  98 days of love and loss and gain…some in the wrong places.  But.  In God’s world, nothing really happens by mistake.  I’m reminded that in order for flowers to bloom, you gotta have rain.  It’s been raining.  I’ve done my best to make lemonade out of lemons.  And guess what I have?

I have the best mixture of life lessons.  And it all happened with the crack of a foot.  My lemonade is sweet and sour, but it’s authentic and honest.  And.  It’s all mine.

98 Days.  I can’t hardly wait to see what comes next.

One thought on “98 Days of Summer: By The Numbers

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