Last Friday, while transitioning from a burpee to a sprint, I tore my Plantaris ligament. Your Plantaris is deep in your calf, and from what I can tell, it's somewhat useless. It helps with flexing your knee and calf, but we're phasing it out -- 7-10% of the population doesn't even have one.
I felt a snap and then a big surge of pain. Is there anything more alien than feeling parts of your body separate? I don't think so. It was shocking and horrifying, and then pretty painful. The ER doctor said that there's not much to do than rest it. It will heal on its own. I don't need surgery or anything.
Thing is, rest? Not something I do well.
I'm a doer. I like to do things. If there's a problem, I like to fix it. But this injury has to heal on its own. And I don't like being on someone else's time schedule. I'm used to my body doing most of what I tell it to do, so the fact that I can't straighten my leg all the way, flex my calf, or walk properly? Pretty darn annoying.
I feel useless. I am a very independent lady, so needing other people to carry things for me, or help me with putting on my shoes feels terrible. I feel like I'm a kid again, and I hate it. Plus, I'm getting cabin fever like whoa.
In one moment, my day-to-day life changed a lot. My partner Mike says that I seem to be pretty wrapped up in this trauma, that I'm letting it define me. I don't know if that's true, but I do think it's dramatically affected a big part of my life - exercise. I love exercise and now I can't do it.
Why do I love exercise? Because I love movement. It's stress release, it's a way to process all my goofy emotions, it makes me stronger and have big muscles, it gives me focus and mental preparation, and a bunch of other things. Honestly, I just love moving. It feels like play.
So not being able to play? I have a lot of feelings about that.