I went to the running clinic yesterday. I was surprisingly nervous as Scott and I drove to our destination. In an attempt to ease my nerves, we joked about the luck that the clinic was in close vicinity to a hospital, should I break a bone. I was amazed at how comfortable and at ease I felt with the other participants once we started. They were "normal" amputees, not the super athletes I feared.
My gait was analyzed to help me minimize my limp. I don't think my limp is too noticeable, but I am self-conscious at times. I would like to be able to walk into a room wearing pants and have people not know that I am an amputee-- a tall order, but one that I think can be attained. I discovered that I don't move my shoulders when I swing my arms while walking. I am going to try to work on this so that my limp will disappear (hopefully).
I was nervous running. The instructor was patient and was able to break the act of running into simple steps. He walked me through the steps and, by the end, I was running! I was so excited. Scott was there to video the milestone. I also learned how to skip, although I am not graceful and it doesn't look as "effortless" as it does for children. Regardless, I can now skip with Robby.
Because we were progressing quickly, the instructor decided to work on some balance and strengthening drills. We were supposed to side step through the straight course. I didn't have a problem side stepping when I was leading with my sound side. I was nervous about leading with my prosthetic.
The instructor, standing in front of me, was moving so quickly and gracefully on his prosthetic. After hesitating, I took a deep breathe and started to move. I was doing it. I decided to try to speed up, in a vain attempt to keep up with the others. Prosthetic, good foot, prosthetic, good foot, prosthetic, oh shit! I fell hard onto the asphalt.
I was instantly embarrassed that I fell, but I tried to brush it off and continue. I finished side stepping with my prosthetic to the end of the course. My husband came over to see if I was okay. I had a road rash on my elbow which was bleeding, and my hand was sore from breaking the fall. I continued with the drills for the remainder of the day despite my broken skin and bruised ego.
It must have been the adrenaline from the situation, but I didn't feel a lot of pain right away. In fact, I impressed myself with my ability to brush it off, as if I was used to falling and that it was "no big deal." I thought that, just maybe, I was tougher than I realized.
On the drive home, my hand started to ache more. By the time I got home, my wrist was beginning to swell. I was having trouble moving my hand, and the pain was increasing. I decided to get it checked.
So, it turns out I went to a running clinic to learn how to move swiftly on my prosthetic, and I ended up breaking my wrist. I'm pretty bummed out. I'm also a little angry but not at anybody in particular because it really isn't anybody's fault. I think I'm just mad that it happened at all.
I try to be graceful and coordinated. It just doesn't seem to work out. I learned so much today about running and walking. I don't regret going and participating in the clinic. I just wish I was a bit swifter and a bit less clumsy.
So, to recap my week and my current physical state. Broken wrist and road rash from today. Public humiliation due to my streaking through the sporting goods store chasing Robby running with my clothes. Poison ivy on my ankle and in both armpits from the "free" berries I discovered at the park. Oh, and I failed to mention the free mandoline that I got, which promptly cut the tip of my pinky finger.
I now have a cast and I'm covered with Diego band-aids. I have used all of my Neosporin spray. Is the week over yet?