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Weeks 27 and 28

Well, I never got around to writing a Week 27 update on my ankle recovery. Truth be told, I’d been sick that week and spent Sunday trying to recoup. Updating two weeks’ worth of progress should be interesting.

Let’s start with Week 27.

That Monday’s physical therapy started pretty much the same as always . . . a warmup on the bike followed by stretching on the slanted board . . .

I’ll probably say it every time, but this is my least favorite exercise.  Stretching out my Achilles’ tendon is still incredibly painful.  I never would have thought that being bound up for nine weeks would require so much time to recover.

I’d been experiencing more discomfort than usual with that tendon, so my therapist decided he needed to work on it.  He found more knots that had to be worked out . . . knots that would continue to plague me if we didn’t do something, so I prepared myself . . .

I know for a fact that this is the one part of his job that my therapist doesn’t like . . . inflicting pain on his patients.  I think it hurts him about as much as it does us, but it’s necessary for recovery, so endure it we must.  I did . . . without tears . . . but with a lot of grunting and gasping.

Surprisingly, I had a good Tuesday.  I’m usually plagued with pain after getting my leg worked on, but it was one of my better days.

Wednesday was bad, though.  I didn’t take pictures of my therapy the rest of that week, but I remember that I hurt . . . a lot.  Such is my life right now.

I still worked out, even sporting a fun pair of shorts that the Mr. bought me after I fell in love with the Wonder Woman movie preview we saw at the theater the weekend before.

I don’t think I’d be as far along in my recovery without my Beach Body Piyo workouts.  They make me feel strong, and I am getting my flexibility and balance back (along with my abs).

Week 28

So, today, May 28th, marks the 28th week since I broke my ankle.

That’s seven months, y’all.

Crazy, eh?

I was back on the board on Monday . . .

Yes, those are my Wonder Woman shorts.  I’d washed them, I promise.  I like to dress in fun workout clothes; they inspire me.

That’s the back room, where I do my plyometric work, sans jumping, which I still cannot do.

For my mat work, I asked the therapist if I could go up in weight.  I upped the ankle weight to five pounds.

Oh.  My.  Gosh.

The jump from four to five pounds was brutal.  I have to do single leg raises with them . . . 30 raises on each leg.

Let’s just say that I wasn’t walking normally after I finished.  Ha!

I try to push myself when I go to physical therapy.  My goal is to get stronger without setting myself back.  It’s often a tough call, which is what my therapists are so important for . . . helping me learn to understand my body’s cues and putting the brakes on stuff I cannot do yet.

On Tuesday, during my Piyo workout, I decided to try the burpees instead of doing the modifications.

Although I didn’t experience pain during the movement (I made sure not to jump down too hard), I paid the price the rest of the day.  My foot hurt in the front, where the ankle and foot connect and bend.  It made for a hard day on my feet.

I told my PT about it the next day, and he chuckled.  He knows that I’m hell-bent on being an overachiever.  He knows I won’t do anything that will cause me to injure myself, but he continues to caution me about pushing too hard too soon.

The best part of therapy, besides seeing the baby steps I’m making, is the electric STEM therapy and ice at the end.  The young lady who applies the nodes has the special touch, let me tell you.  On Wednesday, she got them on just the right spots, and we’ve worked hard to figure out the best settings.  I was in absolute heaven . . . the reward for working so hard and staying diligent in this recovery process.

My therapist and I had talked more about how important it is to stretch my calf and Achilles’ tendon.  I wound up ordering, from Amazon, the following board . . .

I really like this board.  It was a lot less expensive than the wood ones I’d seen before, and it’s very sturdy.  It’s also adjustable, so you can increase or decrease the angle for an easier or tougher stretch.

I’m going to be using this on the days I don’t have physical therapy.  The more I can stretch my muscles, the more complete my recovery will be (and the less pain I’ll be in).

So y’all, do you want to know how stupid / stubborn I am?

On Thursday, during my Piyo workout, I did more burpees.


I am a glutton for punishment.  I limped into school (I work out in the wee hours of the morning before work).  It was ugly, let me tell you.  I had to put my TENS unit on during my planning period and keep my foot up most of the day.

Yeah.  I’m not too bright sometimes.

I should have really known better given that my school’s graduation was the next day, and I’d be on my feet for a very large number of hours.

What a wonderful night celebrating some pretty inspiring kiddos.

By Saturday, my foot was feeling better, so I got up, did a tough 48-minute workout, and then walked the first leg of the newest Hogwarts Running Club race, the Sirius Half Marathon.

This race benefits Mission K9 Rescue, which provides much-needed rehabilitation and rehoming to service dogs.

Oh goodness, y’all, but this hits my heart in so many ways.  With my Rooster serving in the Air Force, my love for fur babies, and my admiration for the HRC, a selfless group of runners/walkers, I didn’t waste any time in registering.

I knew the distance wasn’t something my ankle could handle at one go, so I’m breaking it up into bite-sized pieces.  I haven’t been able to walk further than three miles since I broke my ankle, so Saturday was a big day for me.  It helped that Super Sis called right at the beginning of my walk, and we talked the entire time!  Thank heavens for my wireless ear buds!

I even dressed in honor of Memorial Day . . .

If my Airman (Rooster) was at the finish line, I’d probably make a miraculous recovery and actually RUN to him.  Nothing slows down a mama when it comes to wrapping her arms around her children . . . especially children who live all the way across the country who she can’t see very often.

I managed to burn a LOT of calories during my walk.  Who would have thought it took so much effort to talk and walk at the same time??

My pace sucked, but I had promised the Mr. that I wouldn’t go too fast.  I’d had a rough week on my ankle, and he had seen me in a lot of pain each day.  He didn’t even want me to go, but I have a hard time listening to advice sometimes.


And so it is that I’ll begin Week 29.  I kind of feel like I’ve hit a place where I’m not progressing very quickly.  At the beginning, I saw big improvements.  Now, the steps forward are smaller, and that frustrates me.  It’s like going in to get a haircut and walking out and nobody noticing because your hairdresser only trimmed a half an inch.

I guess that’s what these posts are for, though.  When I look back in a few weeks, I’ll see big improvements across larger amounts of time.

I am still grateful, and I am still in awe of God’s healing power and perfect timing.  He knows what is best, and He’s still working, even if I don’t see big changes.  I continue to trust Him and #findjoyinthejourney.

Week 24

In about five hours, I will hit the 24-week . . . aka 6 months . . . mark after breaking my ankle on November 13th.

There’s just something very wild about being able to say that.

Six.  Months.

If you’ve been following my journey, did you just take in your breath sharply and think, “Has it been that long already?”

Yeah.  Some days, I cannot believe it either.

Last Friday, after my last class of the day had finished its work, I allowed them to relax a little, and they began asking me questions about how I actually broke it.  When I went back to work a couple of weeks after my injury, we were so focused on getting back into a routine, that I didn’t allow them time to ask too much.  Plus, recounting the experience was extremely difficult because of the pain I was still going through.

It still seems so surreal that one moment I was walking through my house, happy as could be . . . preparing for a new week ahead of me, and then in the blink of an eye, I was laying on the floor, unable to move my foot, certain that something very bad had happened.

Sheesh, but I am tearing up just typing that.

That last class of mine has been such a challenge all year, and empathy has not been their strong suit; however, on Friday, one young man sincerely said, “I don’t know how you did it.  You must have been in the worst pain ever.”  He was kind when he said it too.

Yeah, I was.

That drive to the ER was horrendous; I’d never cried like I did that night.  I felt every bump in the road, every instance the Mr. hit the brakes, and, I think, about every breath that came out of my lungs.

That’s why, when I think about the months that have passed since then, I am completely in awe of how far God has brought me.

This past week was a good one for me.  I am grateful for that after the bad week I’d had before it.

I had taken it easy last weekend and was rewarded by my now-normal amount of pain, which is bearable, to say the least.

I am still not pain-free.  Sometimes the bones ache; other times it’s the scar on the inside of my ankle.  My ankle freezes up on me if I sit too long, so I limp when I get up.

Still, I am happy.

Monday, I dressed up.  It’s amazing how easy it is to look nice when the pain is at a minimum.

I had physical therapy after school.

I have been balancing on a Bosu ball for a month or two, and after my first one-minute round, I knew I needed to change things up, so I asked my therapist if he could make it more challenging.

He put a little gel disk on the floor and told me to balance on that.

I laughed.  I figured I’d nail it easily.

Y’all . . . I could not even let go of the bars.

I had tears in my eyes from frustration.

I did not cry though.

One of the other therapists told me that my first goal was to stop white-knuckling the bars.  She said to hold on but not so tight.  She suggested that the next visit, we could work on me holding on by my fingertips.

My other therapist just chuckled.  He said, “You told me to make it harder.”  Yep.  I did.  It took me back to our first conversation my very first visit.  I had told him that I would work hard and that I wanted him to push me.  He has kept his promise to do just that.

I’m finding myself able to do my cone work at physical therapy a little bit easier.  It’s still the toughest exercise I’m doing there because of the balancing I have to do; my ankle is usually pretty sore afterward.

Thank heavens for the icing down and electric therapy at the end of each session.

Last week, I continued with my Piyo workouts.

Oh my golly, but Buns was a tough day.  It was good for my legs but oy vey!

I did a tough routine on Sunday . . . Strength Intervals.  I had to do a lot of the modifications because I cannot move laterally yet, per my physical therapist’s instructions.  I also cannot jump or jog, so I walked with my knees up at those sections.  I did one-handed burpees, more like lunges with one hand on the floor with absolutely no jumping at all.  It was a good workout for me, though, because I worked on a lot of lower body strength, which is what we are focusing on in physical therapy.

I am thankful that I can work out again.  One of the things that frustrated me so much when I was laid up was feeling like all of the hard work I’d done to get back in shape was going by the wayside.  I am deriving much satisfaction in burning calories again and gaining flexibility.

On Saturday, I decided to try to go for another walk.  I figured that I had given myself last weekend off, so maybe I would be okay.

The Mr. said, as I was leaving, “Are you sure about this?”  Yeah.  I was.

I walked a total of 3.28 miles, finally completing my Run Now Gobble Later 5k, a Gone for a Run virtual race I’d originally planned on running the week of Thanksgiving with my friend, Rebecca.  Of course, that’s when I had my little “mishap,” so I wasn’t able to do it.

I slowed my pace down a lot from the last time I’d walked in an attempt to prevent residual pain.  I did start hurting when I hit the 1.5 mile mark.  I’m going to ask my PT where the malleolar bone is.  I think it’s the back one .  . . one of the three I broke.  That’s where I hurt a lot when I walk.  I’m wondering if it’s just going to take longer to fully heal.

Still, I pushed through, iced down when I got home, and binged on Netflix the rest of the day.

Waking up this morning . . . knowing that I’d hit this big milestone . . . was especially poignant.  I still keenly remember googling “Trimalleolar Fracture” back in the ER that fateful night and reading that it would take between 18-24 months to recover.  That’s one bitter pill to swallow.

And now I’m between 1/4 and 1/3 of the way through.


This morning, when I walked into church, one of the guys the Mr. and I have become friends with commented, “You’re not limping!”

I wasn’t?

I hadn’t noticed.

I was having a good morning.

Perspective . . . time . . . God’s healing . . . there’s just something incredible about this journey, wouldn’t you say?

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