wedgie

I ended 2009 a 5K running fool. I was so proud of myself. Who knew I could actually set a goal and accomplish it? Between running and the Jillian Michael's 30 day shred dvd I was in full workout addiction mode and loving every minute of it.

Then came December 29, 2009. Coming off of a wonderful low stress Christmas, not having to travel. By this time I had been working out, training, etc. for about 5 months and feeling really fit. Apparently the fitness had gone to my head a little bit.....

On that day, as usual, I was trying to do way too much in way too little time. I worked out at lunch time and had to be downtown DC later in the afternoon. I decided, as any responsible business woman short on time would, that my outfit wasn't suitable and that 30 minutes was plenty of time to run across the street to Marshalls, find something to wear, go back to my office, change, run back across the street to the metro and make my x o'clock train. Actually, let's be realistic here....the way my emotionally induced brain works is I looked at myself in the mirror and headed to Marshalls. Identifying how much time I really have would be way way to strategic for my blood.

So I get to Marshalls and start out in the shoes, as always.....and nothing. Ok, I'll have to work with the knee high black suede boots with a wedge heel. Pants? Too risky, especially given I have the legs of a 4'3 chick and I'm 5'6. I'll have to work with the black leggings. My only remaining hope? Long sweater section. At this point the person I was meeting called to say they were on their way. Shit. So I'm sorting through sweaters like my life depends on it. When there like the Willy Wonka golden ticket, my sweater shines through. BCBG, perfect length, perfect color and can someone say clearance? Holla! So I run to the line which was thankfully only a few people deep, pay my $20 and I'm on my way. Speed walking my way back to the office. Bust through the door, rip off my unworthy sweater, pop off the glorious clearance tag, snap, coat, purse, laptop bag, and I'm out.

The DC metro system is a beautiful thing, once you understand it. Upon entering the ticketing area they have digital sign boards that read how many minutes until the next train. F, I just missed the train I wanted. I swipe my metro card, head down the broken escalator and realize the train is there. So I start running down the escalator and get half way through when I hear the magic announcement that the doors are closing. Without thinking (clearly), I decided to jump the last 3 escalator stairs to try and make the train. As if in slow motion, I took a beautiful ballerina-esq jump with my right foot. While airborne, my work laptop bag slipped off my shoulder quickly turning my gracefulness into tragedy. The rest is kind of a blur but the next thing I knew I was in the fetal position on the landing of the escalator and the crowd went silent.....making the large pop sound in my ankle/foot even more audible. A nice man helped carry me to the bench and took my boot off and had me rotate my ankle. It hurt like really really bad but since I was able to rotate I figured it was just sprained. Honestly I had no idea what I figured because in my 33 years of existence, I had never broken a bone or seriously sprained anything.

I decided to squeeze my boot back on and tough it out to my meeting. I limped my way through the next several hours and it was just getting worse and worse. By the time I had my mom pick me up at the metro station near home i was practically crawling to the car. Once I took my boot off my foot swelled up like a balloon. An ER visit and follow up orthopedic visit later, I'm told I've broken my first bone in my foot. Joy. Thankfully some really awesome cast designer invented the air cast so I was immediately able to walk. Unfortunately it was my right foot so I wasn't able to drive for 6 weeks which turned out to be the longest 6 weeks of my life! Online grocery shopping and the metro were my new best friends.

Fast forward to March 24th, yesterday. I'm about 6 weeks out of my air cast and finally feeling normal in my right foot again. Slowly getting back to running and working out. I've been traveling a lot for work, making up for the 6 weeks I was out of commission in that department. Plus it's just a busy time of year for me.

I had to go to Rockaway, NJ yesterday. The best way to go from DC to NY is the acela express train on amtrak. It's the bomb. 2.5 hours, big comfy seats, wifi, cafe car - perfection. Since I had to go to NJ, I took the train home from Newark so I wouldn't have to deal with rush hour NYC traffic. Nothing in NY or NJ is easy. I know first hand from living there many years ago. I had to take the rental car to Newark airport and then take a cab from the airport to the train station. Why not fly home you ask? I explored this option and tickets were ridonkulous, plus like I said the train is awesome. No security, no being there an hour before, I can pack my whole suitcase full of liquids and I don't have to wear a seat belt and I can use my cell phone. Of course the cab ride ends up being right in the prime time of rush hour and I ask the cab driver if he can make miracles happen and get me to the station for a 5:15 train. Next thing I know we're driving 80 miles an hour down back allies and through kiddie pool size potholes...but I didn't care! I was going to make it! It's 5:07 and he drops me off on the corner. Mind you this is my first time to Newark's amtrak station....and remember nothing in Jersey is easy. So I'm sprinting with my suitcase on wheels, laptop bag on my shoulder, purse on my wrist and my cute new wedge heels on my feet. I have to sprint around the building to the main entrance. I quickly notice Amtrak's door is 3 and i open the door and sprint up the 2 flights of steep steps. It's 5:12 and the train is there. By this time I'm completely out of breath and sweating. I ask the conductor if I can buy a ticket on board and she says (very new jersey expressionless) "no, reservations only"...."where do i buy reservations?" "the station" with a point. So I'm sprinting towards the station which I then realize, of course, is downstairs where I started. Goodbye train. Hello Newark train station.

The next train isn't for an hour. Fuck. Here I am sweating, coughing, out of breath and surrounded by homeless, scary people. I just wanted to cry. In addition, had I made the 5:15 train it would have been a reasonable enough time to get my girls. Double Fuck. The mom guilt never ends.

So I do what any other responsible mother slash business mom would do and blackberry message all of my friends, facebook about how i'd rather unicycle on the nj turnpike than ever have to return to the newark train station and read twitters. The hour goes by faster than I thought and I'm feeling much better.

Once I get on the most wonderful train in the world, everything is a-ok.....and once I get my dinner (1/2 bottle of wine and a bag of trail mix) life is good. I got a lot of work, facebooking and chatting out of my system and before you know it I'm back in the best place on earth, home.

The weather felt so much warmer (and cleaner) than NJ. Ahhhhhh, home at last. What's even better? My mom was picking me up at Union Station so no more trains. Walking through Union Station is always one of my favorite DC spots. It's gorgeous. I remember thinking how lucky I am to live here. I made it to the front doors, head out and I'm on my way to the pick up area. Doo da doo, just strolling along when out of no where the ground drops and I'm on the side of my foot. FUCK!!! I literally said that out loud. I quickly realized that the sidewalk had ended and I managed to walk off the curb and land on the side of my wedge heel donned foot. It was like complete deja vu. I limped back up to the curb and another nice man help me sit down.

How could this happen again? It can't, I thought...no, I'm just overly sensitive and everything will be fine. I stood up and quickly realized, no everything won't be. I lost it. Between the excruciating pain shooting through my foot and my exhausting day and my flat out anger, I was a tear shooting mess. My poor mother got the first of it. WHERE ARE YOU?!? , I screamed at her in the phone I JUST BROKE MY FUCKING FOOT AGAIN!!! She hung up, smart lady ;)

So another ER visit and orthopedic visit later, I sprained my ankle pretty bad. The good news is it's not broken and will hopefully heal quicker. The bad news is it hurts so much worse than the break and I'm not even at the point where I can wear the air cast. I want to take the 2nd pair of crutches I now own and throw them out of the window. I've tried the Nola crawl on my knees and I don't know how that kid does it. That shit hurts!

So that's my story. Girls, I really hope you don't inherit mommy's gracefulness.....however I think Gabby has already shown signs. The moral of the story? Down with the wedge heel. My orthopedic told me that the wedge heel keeps him in business. Grrr, they're so cute and comfortable and I thought i was being smart not wearing traditional heels. Who knew?

the end.