It’s been three weeks since I got the call from my sports medicine doctor...
I was grabbing a coffee at my favorite spot in the neighborhood when the call came in. I anxiously answered after a single ring. “Do you have a few minutes to chat?” my doctor asked. I was waiting eagerly to hear the results of the bone scan I had a week prior and while I was excited to hear from my doctor to quell my anxiety, I was also kind of dreading it. I stepped outside and sat down on a bench, bracing myself for whatever news the doctor was going to relay.
“I just got the results of your bone scan.”
Silence…
“I know this isn’t the news you want to hear, but you have a stress fracture in the left calcaneus and in the right cuboid. Full recovery is 8-12 weeks. I highly recommend wearing walking boots for 6 weeks. Treatment is rest.”
Then I hung up. That was it. It was as short, (un)sweet and abrupt as that.
The emotions I felt when my doctor delivered the news was confusing. Part of me was deeply relieved. I had been following my treatment plan for plantar fasciitis, optimally loading the tendons by increasing my walking distance and building strength in my legs and feet with a variety of different exercises. I did everything my physiotherapist prescribed: strength, mobility, flexibility, shockwave treatments, and massages. I didn’t miss a single day of treatment. I stopped running mid-March, which was the most time I’ve ever taken off running, while also mixing in anti-inflammatory vitamins each day (like omegas and turmeric). I even bought Hokas…Hokas…WHAT ELSE DO YOU WANT FROM ME?
The whole ordeal, which started back in mid-February has felt like an ongoing uphill battle. I would feel optimistic that I was on a positive healing trajectory, walking longer, getting back into routine and feeling more frequent pain-free bouts, until I got a sudden and rude awakening. Flare-up after flare-up after flare-up was my new spiral. I’d feel worse for a period of time, then have a sliver of relief, only to land on feeling shitty again. This cycle of hope and misery permeated my existence over the course of multiple months. Diligently doing everything I’m supposed to be doing, only to feel worse, is the literal definition of insanity. An ultrasound I had a month earlier confirmed that I did have plantar fasciitis in both feet and so, I naturally assumed that’s what the issue was. When I met with a specialist in April, and after conducting a few feel tests, he suspected something else was going on. I had pain in weird areas like my ankles–places on my body that weren’t typical symptoms of plantar fasciitis. What the hell was going on with me?
I now had the information I desperately needed, and could finally treat the injury properly. A sense of relief washed over me…I knew what I need to do…well, kind of? But what does rest really mean? Can I walk at all? Can I do daily things? How much walking can I safely do in a day with my new moon boots (aka Aircasts)? Can I still cross-train? Do I need to wear boots while cross-training? I still had so many unanswered questions, but at least I had a general sense of what not to do. I also had a rough idea on how long it would take for my bones to heal and repair themselves. The state of my mental health demanded answers, and I finally had some.
The feeling of relief was quickly superseded by heavy emotions. After I hung up the phone with my doctor, I immediately called my partner, Brandy, and told her the news while sobbing. I felt so strong and confident in my fitness over the last 15 years, only experiencing some minor injuries since I started running in 2008, which included a minor strain here or a swollen ankle there. This injury completely debilitated me. Stress fractures are no joke and need to be treated very seriously—running through stress fracture recovery is a huge no-no. The bones only heal and repair themselves with full rest. Since February, I’ve felt so weak and vulnerable—an unfamiliar feeling that exposed all the raw, dependent parts of myself. I was humbled to no longer remain in the injury-free camp, instead joining the ranks of pretty much every athlete in the sideline club. In a flash, everything was taken from me. I couldn’t cycle. I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t even do daily things like carry groceries or stand for long periods of time to cook. Sitting and resting was the only agenda item day-in and day-out for weeks. I had to adapt, and lean on others to help me.
The timing of this couldn’t have been worse. Brandy was in the process of moving in with me and I felt like a useless sack. No weight-bearing for 6 weeks meant no heavy lifting while standing. Instead, I sat around, trying to aid in the move in the smallest ways I possibly could. I became completely dependent on other people to drive me places, and run basic errands. My 20 meter hobble to the seawall has been my main form of movement for the day aside from seated strength training I’ve maintained 6 days/week. Leaving the house has also become an annoyance. It’s a whole process getting on those Aircasts and the stares and random comments from strangers certaintly aren’t in short supply.
Potential Causes
While I don’t know exactly what caused both stress fractures, I do know for a fact that rest is something I’ve really needed, especially over the last year. My idea of a rest day was a 5-mile easy run. Even before I started my almost 7 year run streak, I’d never taken more than a day off from training over the course of the last 15 years. I pushed myself so hard for so long and looking back at the few months before I got injured, my body was sending me all sorts of signals that it had enough.
The specialist I met in April, brought to my attention a condition (common in female runners), but can affect all genders, called RED-S (Relative Energy Deficiency in Sport). RED-S occurs when there’s a limited amount of energy availability in athletes. Under fuelling, eating in a caloric deficit for extended periods and/or nutrition timing can cause some major issues in the body, and potentially lead to stress fractures. I decided to hire a registered dietician who specializes in working with endurance athletes to take a better look at my nutrition.
But there were also other potential causes. Since I ran the Fat Dog 120-miler in August 2023, my daily runs were slowly getting depleted of their enjoyability. I was experiencing abnormal levels of fatigue, had weird niggles in places like my hips and lower back that persisted for days. I procrastinated getting out the door for my runs, dreading them and wanting them to just end. Instead of feeling the quotidian runner’s high, I just felt tired…so very tired.
I spent a bulk of last year (6 months) training hard for a 120 mile race and this year, I’m spending almost the same amount of time injured, not being able to do a damn thing. In under a year, I’ve experienced internal bleeding, numbness in my toes, plantar fasciitis, and now bilateral stress fractures. My luck with injury avoidance has officially run out.
When it rains, it pours, baby.
After the depressing call from my doctor, I was on and off crying for days, and mentally not okay.
After feeling all the feelings and having multiple mental breakdowns, I switched gears, and decided to focus on my recovery, gathering more information on how to not only ensure a healthy recovery, but also prevent this from happening again. I needed to trust the process, remain compliant, and try my best to bring down my levels of stress and anxiety, that were not doing me any favours in my healing.
How does one deal with a stress fracture? What does rehab look like? It was time to call on my medical team and get more individualized information. I booked an appointment with my physiotherapist and hearing her calmly and pragmatically offer advice felt like a warm hug. I listened to podcasts with specialists on bone health and stress fractures in runners. I bought a book on building mental skills and developing resiliency while injured. I decided that I don’t want to squander this time, wallowing in self-pity (although, I am carving some time out to do that), but rather, use it and put all my energy into my healing, reflecting on this low point in my life, and figuring out a new path forward. I’m trying to just take each day as it comes, even if that means just surviving it.
I went through a period of self-shaming, getting angry at myself for neglecting the signs from my body, and continuing to push through the fatigue and pain. I completely lost touch with my body over the last several months, ignoring the many alerts it was sending me, but I have no choice now but to acquiesce to its demands.
My race plans for the summer that included the Sinister7 100-miler and the Fat Dog 50-miler have been canceled and my cardiovascular conditioning is going down the tubes, but that’s not the most heart-breaking thing for me. The weather is warming up and I want to be outside in nature. I want to be hiking, trail running, cycling or at the bare minimum, going for walks with my partner (one of our favourite things to do together). Scheduling get-togethers with my friends has proven to be a challenge; not because they aren’t fantastic and wouldn’t visit me in a heartbeat, but because my mobility makes activities or experiences together a bit limited. However, seeing my friends has really lifted my spirits and mood– even if it does have to take place on the couch.
It’s been 3 months since I started feeling pain, and I desperately want to feel healthy again. I can’t wait for the day when I get out of bed and make my morning coffee with no lingering foot pain and discomfort. Unfortunately, that day will not be tomorrow or the next, but I’m trying to celebrate little wins and milestones as they come. Feeling slightly less pain each day is a big milestone for me. I can’t cycle yet, but in a few weeks I might be able to get back on a bike again. Injury recovery requires immense patience. It’s a process and a non-linear one at that.
Right now, I’m focusing on what’s in my control and engaging in more mental activities. I’m getting back into meditating to reconnect with my body, reading inspiring stories from other athletes who have gone through rough times and came out stronger on the other side, and writing when I have the energy.
I’m increasing my calories and ensuring I get adequate proteins, fats, carbohydrates and micronutrients (with an emphasis on vitamin D and calcium to build strong bones). I’m leaning on my support system more than ever. People have really showed up for me, reaching out to see how I’m doing, and it’s made a really big difference in my mental health.
When life takes something you love away in a flash, it can feel hopeless and jarring, but I have a firm belief that this injury will make me a better athlete, and better human after I come out of this. Pain and suffering, while not always evident when we’re going through it, provides a tremendous opportunity for growth. As Nietzsche wisely wrote, “to live is to suffer; to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering.”