A few weeks ago, a tendon in my foot tore. There’s an extra bone in tucked in there, and, every now and again, it feels the need to make a run for a new body.
I rested it a little that night, and went right back to work the next morning. Lots of ice and compression later, I’m able to walk at a decent speed and workout on occasion. There is still a lot I can’t do. My foot has to be flat on the ground before it can take any weight, and I slip away to cry a little a couple times a week.
Still, I go to work everyday and use power tools and repair bikes and lift heavy objects. “I have deadlines,” I tell myself as if it’s an excuse to destroy my body.
The thing I forget too often is that while I do have deadlines, my body also has an expiration date. Every week that I work 80+ hours or push through an injury, I pull that expiration date in closer. The lasso is set, and I need to let go.
Right now, my writing is a way to balance both worlds. Sitting down and typing away, I know that I am technically working, but I’m also healing in more ways than one.
So, here’s to a new chapter in life. Hopefully one with fewer torn muscles and broken bones.