Today, I got out and ran. The moon set behind the house, a blurry orange disk in the dawn sky. A light drizzle threatened, but never really materialized. The issues with my right foot have all but dissipated. The two shots helped. Not tequila shots, mind you, but cortisone.
Confession is good for the soul, right? Now’s as good a time as any to admit I put on 10 lbs. over the last year. Yay! I kind of lost track of who I was and what I wanted while going through transition after transition, some of it mighty painful. But I’m an athlete. I know probably that sounds kind of goofy. I don’t mean it in the sense of competing at an elite level. I have a day job, after all, and multiple obligations. I mean it in the sense that I need to get physical and sweaty most days. So…not super feminine. But I don’t really care about that anymore. I think I need to invent my own standard.
Fast forward to today. I’ve lost about 5 of those pounds. Woot! I’d like to lose 5 more. We’ll reevaluate after that. I went back to kettlebells last week. Oy! I’d done some at home, because you don’t want to walk back into class cold turkey. That’s just asking for pain and suffering. Your hands will already turn to hamburger. Why add to the misery?
While running this morning, I considered the last year. I know we’re almost halfway through 2018, but it’s taken awhile to let my failures go. Sometimes we wind up with a filleted heart. It takes time to heal. To force the healing or lose patience with ourselves is to miss the learning. We continue to take it to the Father, pray, read the Word and surrender, Dorothy. We need to feel the feelings instead of stuffing them – or eating them – which was my M.O. until recently.
All of this to say I’m on the mend. Dr. B. gave me yet another shot in my foot. I sat in the examination room, contemplating the fish-spangled ceiling as the needle plunged into my foot yet again.
“All done,” Dr. B. announced.
“Wait. You’re done? That didn’t hurt as much,” I said. I felt proud of myself. I am getting tougher, I thought, smiling. Alright!
“Well,” he said, “as the inflammation goes down, the shots hurt less. So you’re nearly better.” He smiled.
Amen to that.
And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns. – Philippians 1:6