I took my foot injury pretty well. Even when I thought it was a stress fracture. At this point I almost wish it was just so I would know what was happening. I’m out of the boot (thank goodness) or I thought I was. I continue to go to physical therapy. I feel like I’m making progress. But now they want me to wear the boot again. I feel like I want to throw a tantrum.

That paragraph was written almost three weeks ago. I am getting more frustrated by the minute. I went back to the doctor last week and she wants me to continue physical therapy. I really thought my foot was getting better until this past weekend in Boston where I really don’t feel like I over did it, but apparently I did. I’m back to wearing my running shoes to work, which in case you are wondering look awesome with my skirt today <eyeroll>.

I’m losing patience. I’m getting upset. I want to run. Hell, I want to be able to take my dog for a walk. I want to be able to dance at a friend’s wedding and not be in pain. I have given up on any races for the rest of 2014. I registered for a race in January and I’m suddenly terrified I won’t be able to run it.

I’m jealous of everyone running. I miss it. I miss running in decent temperatures. I miss running with Rosie. I miss running with Sara. I miss seeing running friends at events. I miss the time to myself. I miss the fresh air. I miss all of it.