Yesterday should have been Friday the 13th.

Reruptured. Redepressed.

Back to the ol' cast.

Apparently I was supposed to have an air cast this whole time. Apparently I was supposed to have very limited range of motion, not a free-for-all. This is all news to me. This doctor seemed quite surprised that I would go from a cast to a piece of foam wedged into my shoe. So he called the doctor who originally saw me when it happened, and who later examined me when he took the cast off; This doctor claimed to have given me this walking cast. Which is a lie. Which leads me to think Doctors are too busy to properly care for their patients. So I am back in less than 10 days with the same problem. It could have easily been avoided.

I am not mad that this could have been avoided - we're only human and we make mistakes. I am mad because running is so important to me. I am officially back at zero. I asked this new Doctor, who's name I have forgotten, what my new recovery time was because I had been planning to run the Great Wall Marathon in May and he replied, "You should stop thinking about that because it is unlikely you will be running much by that point and it's overly ambitious of you with this kind of injury." What I said was not very Godly of me. I did later end up apologizing for the tongue lashing I gave him - none of this is his fault.

6 months until I might be able to consider picking up my running shoes again. You see folks, running is my cold beer after a difficult day, my way of processing and dealing. It's my escape from the mundane parts of life. It's my livelihood.