A Quarter Mile!

Yesterday I went to the doctor's, and he told me that I could start jogging! So great. He asked me if we were still practicing soccer, and I told him that this was the last week. As a result, he said it would be okay if I did that, too. I can also finish karate class and not have to worry about doing it next semester. I just have to take it easy...not a real problem.

Last night I jogged a quarter mile; that's what Dr. Antwine suggested. I felt fine. My calves got a little tight, but I believe that's to be expected after not using them for over three weeks. I was glad that I was doing something.

Today I practiced soccer. I knew it wouldn't be a good idea to do any of the running drills, and I definitely didn't need to scrimmage. We started out with some footwork stuff, none of which I could do. Then Brandon had two of the girls put us into two teams. I kind of stood away from the group, because I just assumed that they would scrimmage. Instead, Brandon pulled me into the group; I was thinking, "Um, I hope Brandon knows what he's doing. What are we doing?" We were finally put into teams, and he tells us that we're going to play capture the flag, except with a soccer ball. I was a little nervous; I didn't know how it was going to work. I just stayed on our defensive side and tried to defend our ball. I was doing great, until Cheslie just happened to hit my leg RIGHT on the lower inside incision on my right leg. Wow. It hurt. My eyes definitely watered at that. After that, though, I was okay. Then somebody else whacked the upper incision on the same side and leg. I had to walk off the field. It killed me. So, evidently the incisions are still a little tender. Ha. After capture the flag, they did scrimmage, so I was out.

At this point in my recovery, it's really weird. It seems strange to me that less than two weeks ago, I was still on crutches. Now, I'm running. On Friday, it will be four weeks since I've had surgery. It's just strange. On the other hand, I find it hard to believe that I won't be worried about my calves (specifically) for the rest of my life, much less in two weeks. In two weeks, I'm supposed to be completely cleared. That's just crazy. It's not that I don't think I'll ever be well; it's one of those things where when you're sick, you can't imagine what it's like to be not sick. You definitely think about it, but at the same time, You can't remember how it really feels to be healthy. Y'all know what I mean.