I used to run as if something were always chasing me.
Sometimes I did not know where I was going or who was chasing me. Somehow, everything became a race. Maybe it matched the way I lived: thinking ahead, planning, measuring the next step.
Within the last three years, I began taking fitness more seriously. Thankfully, my job made keeping fit a fun, nonnegotiable activity. I guess I took it to another level, running even when no one was chasing me. My little boys love to run, and I play and run alongside them too.
I wanted running to become a good habit, a discipline that travelled. I also wanted to prove I could keep doing hard things. I have always believed in doing wholeheartedly what I find to do.
Then my body asked me to listen.
Plantar fasciitis turned the thing I loved into the thing I feared. My physical therapist tried warm compresses, different exercises, and routines to do at home. Some helped. Some days the pain returned. We kept working. Then one day, the pain came back all at once, as if a hurricane had swept through my house. Running had also aggravated my back pain in no small measure.
That was when my therapist suggested extracorporeal shockwave therapy for my foot. I had never heard of it. The name sent a rush of adrenaline through me. My curious side wanted to understand; my protective side wanted us to consider safety. I shared the health concerns that mattered, and we paused before using it on my foot. Part of me wanted relief. The child in me grinned when we set that treatment aside. I wanted to heal, but I was nervous about the unfamiliar.
We tried treatment on my thighs and lower legs, hoping that supporting those areas might help my movement and my foot. I felt a little improvement, though healing was not complete.
The weeks with my therapist were more than exercises. Her kindness and the stories she shared made the sessions feel warm. While I exercised, she offered story after story, each carrying a lesson about life, faith, God, and how we care for one another. I gave her a handmade Divine Accolades flyer and invited her to read my stories. Some of what she shared felt close to what I try to write.
I may not feel strong in my lower body right now, but I am grateful for what is still working. I can write; I can use my hands, fingers, and arms, and I do not take that for granted. People live with trigger finger, arthritis in their fingers or thumbs, nerve problems, and biceps or triceps tendon injuries that can make reaching or lifting difficult. Their pain deserves understanding too.
My gratitude does not erase the pain in my feet. It helps me notice what I can still do. I may not be the strongest, but while my upper body works, I will use it. I will keep writing, keep creating, and praise God for what I have.
I want to own the right accolades: for showing up, adapting, and giving thanks while healing is unfinished. Running may have slowed, but gratitude has not. My feet are teaching me patience; my hands are reminding me to keep creating.
By Joan Roberts
