Tag: life

What a year, I mean month

I spent the last few months injury stacking, to use wellness language. 

Things changed quickly after my last post. I was diagnosed with a stress fracture in two metatarsals. Rather than gearing up for fall races, I was booted, waiting for the pain to subside. A week after I was released from the boot, I sprained the shit out of my ankle on the same leg. I’ve only had a few meltdowns over it this fall.

I like to think I did learn something from my time fighting for endometriosis care. At my first stress fracture follow up, the orthopedist spent two minutes with me. Without any imaging, he said he knew I had a stress fracture and to stay in the boot. I asked about an MRI and he doubled-down. Why image when he knows?

Reader, he didn’t know. I have written about this kind of egotistical doctor already. There was no fracture in my initial image! It is standard to keep imaging a stress fracture to monitor the healing process. I immediately told my physical therapist about him and she emailed an orthopedist she often works with to get me an appointment.

I loved this woman. She is sharp, kind, thoughtful. Her work is driven by the core belief that you can and should get back to movement you love. I told her I was willing to get an MRI (read: PAY) for clarity. I’m so glad I did. She was able to see beautiful bones at the 5 week mark, so I could transition out of the boot.

I had brief, sweet freedom, biking around Baltimore cheering during the Baltimore Running Festival. Shortly after is when I fell down the stairs (nothing cool) and sprained my ankle, which has been a more difficult recovery. Or maybe both combined, healing my ligaments AND loading my foot bones, has made things more complicated. 

To paraphrase Melissa Febos, I am examining consequences. Without running, I had more time to reflect on writing and creative dreams. I would love more time. Ha! This means that despite having a stack of poems I’m calling a manuscript, my focus is on applying to residencies for 2026. Sitting, playing, thinking, leads to creative discovery. I need uninterrupted time for this. I did have a chance to reflect on this playful aspect some with Malissa Rodenburg in Writers Who Run, which went live a few weeks ago, before I started run / walking.

What else is on the horizon for 2026, a year that has already been filled with horrors? 

  • I am going to take a Stop the Bleed training, for another way to be a better bystander. I was recertified in CPR a few years ago, and I was a trained lifeguard back in the day. Those are still in me and despite being an anxious person the training has taught me to be calm in a crisis. This is an up-to-date way to be helpful if I…encounter horrors firsthand.
  • Read a book of poetry a week. I buy books when poets are on tour to support them, but have been terrible at keeping up with my pace. A weekly goal is a little easier for me than the Sealey Challenge (maybe I will go for that again in August!), and I will be supporting friends and peers.
  • Ride in a cyclocross race in the fall. Biking while I can’t run has brought me a lot of joy. I can cover even more ground than a long trail run! I can eat solid food and not vomit in my mouth! I love the heckling and crowd support at cross races. It’s time to give it a go.

This four month break from running has been a chance to see how much I miss it while digging into different hobbies. So as always, stay sweaty and glittery. None of us are free until all of us are free.

Books I’m thinking about / recently read:

  • Sapello Son by Alejandro Lucero
  • Sugarblood by Liz Bowen
  • Walden or, Life in the Woods by Henry David Thoreau

Running Through It

In January, a friend asked if writing has interrupted my running goals. I have been ruminating on the question since then, including since I first started drafting this post in March (if that explains at all how this year has been going). I also found it so hard to answer, important to mull over, because writing and running are integral to my every day. I find time to move, time to write. It’s all creative to me. It’s always happening within me, even if I’m not actually writing or running in the moment. I started a blog called POETS THAT SWEAT, after all.

Prioritizing book event opportunities did change my racing schedule. I was out of Baltimore for many spring races. Evening engagements made me a group run ghost. I was spending time with writing friends in ways I hadn’t done since before the pandemic. I loved that time. We always need more time.

What I didn’t choose was severe lung inflammation, stoked by a major allergy flare before some updated allergy testing, then some ugly bloodwork I’m continuing to investigate. The ENT & allergist saw how a week without antihistamine to do some allergy testing caused my joints to swell, caused intense full-body joint pain. With endometriosis and my hypermobility, I have some big-picture concerns still to be determined. 

I managed to run this spring, though scaled back. Rather than racing, runs were connected to travel. During AWP in March, I scheduled my flights to have extra time to run. This was, of course, planned before the severe allergy flare, but I managed to have a good time. All while my friend and AWP roommate heard my breathing suffer.

First, I explored the Santa Monica Pier. I had started a daily steroid inhaler a couple days before getting to LA. My lung inflammation was so severe at that point that a half-mile easy jog was nearly impossible. I jog-walked for about 2 hours, taking in Venice Beach, Muscle Beach, skaters grooving to Fugazi, with Andrew McMahon in my head. I ate cash-only churros from a local vendor next to the end of Route 66.

The steroids continued their magic over the next five days. I was able to close the trip with an epic 14 mile run from Griffith Park to the Hollywood sign, The Last House on Mulholland Drive, Angel’s Frank Lloyd Wright crypt, then through the Los Feliz neighborhood. I think about the route all the time. The smooth dirt trails, the coyote quietly searching, the misty haze blanketing the city, the ranch tucked in a valley. I can see why so many people find magic there.

I had a quick weekend in NOLA in mid April for the New Orleans Poetry Festival. My lungs were so much better by then. I even had a chance to run around the art museum with a poetry friend, talking mostly about running and some about poetry.

My partner and I went on a road trip to Big Bend National Park for the last half on May. The trip deserves its own post. I have a notebook full of notes from Roadside Geology, tour guides, and observations. I’ve seen movies set in West Texas, looked at pictures, but the expansive land has an immense beauty I have trouble giving language. The best I can do is say I felt in my bones a depth that only scratches the surface of what indigenous people have seen in the land for thousands of years. I wasn’t able to get any readings scheduled during the trip, so I did some pop-up roadside recordings that I called “We’re All Oddities: Roadside Book Tour” on my Instagram.

I look to ultra-athletes with chronic illness, like Devon Yanko and Grayson Murphy, to not be afraid to keep finding new ways to explore. I’ve expressed this before – I’d be in pain if I wasn’t running. Why not have some fun? I have a tentative massive goal for 2027 that involves going to the Salton Sea. First, I have a road half-marathon to take on in October. Like I mentioned, I’m in the middle of testing to see if the doctor can pinpoint SOMETHING that’s causing unbearable fatigue. It’s going to take up most of my fall, but I refuse to pause my life.

Books I’m thinking about / recently read:

  • Mountain Amnesia by Gale Marie Thompson
  • Between Two Kingdoms by Suleika Jaouad
  • Recollections of My Nonexistence by Rebecca Sonlit

Stay sweaty and glittery. None of us are free until all of us are free.