I Broke My Foot And Now I’m Blogging

That’s right, you heard me. The other night I was tossing and turning. I was going through some of the whys of my life.

Why can’t I curl up with a book 24/7? Why do my kids have endless appetites? Why does that persnickety neighbor constantly yell at my husband for playing tennis outside? And why did I break my m***** f****** foot?

Yes, I am still feeling spicy about it.

I tend to think in words and pictures. I have a constant internal dialogue and those thoughts play in surround sound in my head as if I was watching the world’s weirdest reality tv show. It can get loud and chaotic in here and sometimes I’d like to change the channel pleaseandthankyou.

Rewind to a little over a decade ago — I was a dental student living in San Francisco. I had my first child while in school and was attempting to navigate graduate school, marriage, and motherhood. But I had a blog and a space to process my thoughts. It was also during the height of mommy blogging and I was trying to find community. The blog vacillated between various attempts at finding a niche. Was I a mommy blog? A lifestyle blog? A dental blog? A random ass blog with no particular rhyme or reason? All of the above.

I made friends through the online space that eventually became real life friends. But life ebbs and flows. I had more babies, started a career, bought a home on a little island in the San Francisco Bay, and sought to make a small difference in the lives of my patients. During the pandemic (ew, make me forget), I had to take a hard look at what content and media I was consuming.

On one hand, I was plugged into various spaces — politically, spiritually, professionally, and socially. And on the other, I was addicted to the numbers game of views, followers, and likes. My values and ideologies were different than some of my family and friends. I was perpetually outraged at the state of the country and world. It resulted in a cesspool of toxicity — in my heart and my mind. I became angry and uncharitable. Needing to do some serious self-reflection, I stepped away from blogging and a majority of social media.

This pause has been endlessly good for my mental health. But I’ll tell you, between motherhood, career, home, and life — I barely had enough time to sleep, let alone document every little thing on an instagram square.

But something has been missing. The catharsis created by sharing, connecting, and processing has left a blog-shaped hole in my heart (<—okay that was cringe, I may edit it out). I’ve navigated back into social media on my own terms and made new friends and connected with old ones. I am more discerning about what I read and engage with. The algorithm is algorithming.

Oakland, CA

About to run my first half-marathon in a decade!

So jumping to the present, about three weeks ago I ran a half-marathon! The last time I ran a half-marathon was in 2015 during my last year of dental school. I was a new mom. I was 25. And I had no idea what I was doing. Now I’m 35, a mom of 5, and I still have no idea what I’m doing, except now I have a few silver hairs and my kids smack my belly jelly for fun. But I ran the Oakland Half-Marathon and I felt proud. I beat my goal time and ran it in 2:25, which for a full-time working mom, was pretty impressive if I do say so myself.

But literally four (!!!!!) days after finishing the half, I was doing a recovery jog in the wee hours before everyone was awake (because, again, full-time working mom) and I fell and ate shit. There is no elegant or less colorful way to say this. I landed in a sidewalk pothole, rolled my right foot, and took a graceless tumble across the asphalt. I instantly knew that my foot was injured and I waddled home crying and shaking my fists at the sky to fumble my marathon training plan for my next goal to run the San Francisco full-marathon.

Well it turned out, I broke my right fifth metatarsal and now that we are about two and a half weeks out from my fall I am still processing what the break means for my marathon goals and my general physical and mental health.

Fifth metatarsal - RIP

I’ve looked at a zillion x-rays of teeth so why not just add a foot to the mix?

But someone wise (thank you dear friend Dina) reminded me that sometimes things happen as a sign for us to slow down and to take the time to do something that my brain, body, and heart need. So for now, I’m walking around in a foot boot and trying to process my thoughts. And I’m praying that this foot break won’t set back my marathon training too badly. But that’s a post for another time.

And thus we are brought back full circle — I broke my foot, I’m blogging again, and I hope you’ll read along.