My Physical Therapy Adventure

Remember how at the end of the summer I found out that I'm basically deformed? That was fun, right? Wrong. It wasn't fun. I literally cried for an hour because the sports med doctor told me that I should stop running for a month.

I mean, really? Really, sports med doctor? The nerve! It's like you got a degree in sports medicine and were being paid to figure out what was wrong with me and fix it or something.

The doc also said that I should get new running shoes (and stop running barefoot, which I'd already done—yes I run barefoot, long story, anyway—) and schedule myself some physical therapy appointments.

I didn't stop running because I was pretty sure that if I did that, I would spontaneously combust, Achilles tendon pain or no Achilles tendon pain. But I did get new running shoes, and, after some struggle, I did manage to find a time where my life schedule lined up with the physical therapy office schedule so that I could make an appointment.

Ay my first appointment, I met my physical therapist; he was nice. He asked me how my ankles felt (they felt quite good). He asked if I'd stopped running (I told him I hadn't). He examined me and concluded that while there was definitely an issue present, the sports med doc had over-exaggerated the weakness in my hips and legs.

We talked about what the goal of the physical therapy. I explained that my understanding was that the physical therapy wouldn't be corrective; there wasn't a way to fix the problem. But it could be preventive in helping me avoid and fix more issues in the future.

We decided that I would go to physical therapy for about a month and see how it went.

As we got to work stretching the muscles in my legs, the physical therapist made some observations:

1. A tangible goal for the physical therapy sessions could be getting me to be able to squat. Because, as I'd realized at the doctor's appointment, I can't squat worth...squat.

2. My ankles are very inflexible, especially the left one.

3. My calf muscles are apparently humongous.

4. I am noticeably more uncoordinated on the left side of my body than the right.

The calf muscle thing surprised me, although the inflexible and uncoordinated parts didn't. I always knew that. How could I not know that? When you're as inflexible and uncoordinated as I am, you're bound to notice. The only shock was that it was just on the one side.

Later the physical therapist also noticed that I run on my toes in such a way that definitely was not helping my Achilles tendons. He asked if the tiptoeing was because I'd done dance, and I said it was. (Yes, even as inflexible and uncoordinated as I am, I was in dance classes for 5+ years. That's how I discovered I was inflexible and uncoordinated.)

In any case, for a little over a month, I would go to the physical therapy clinic super early and meet with the physical therapist. The first few sessions, he massaged my ankles with some kind of butter to loosen them up. The first couple of times hurt but in a good way. The final time, he used a plastic scrape-y thing to perform the massage, and it hurt like the dickens. It took my full willpower not to kick him in the face. I had to send my brain to a happy place to handle the pain.

I also did exercises at the clinic. These exercises featured such delights as stretching against a wall, doing squats with an exercise ball, doing squats with a chair, putting a gigantic rubber band that smelled vaguely of chocolate around my ankles and scuttling sideways like a demented crab, and pushing off on a counter to rise up and slowly lower myself down.

I practiced these exercises every night at home. Pepper said, "Isn't the stereotype that people don't practice their physical therapy?" That sounded like a waste of money to me.

To be honest, though, it was kind of...fun. Mentally soothing, too. It was nice to feel like there was a problem in my life with an actual straightforward solution.

After doing four sessions over about five weeks, we shook hands. Physical therapy was over. My ankles were doing great. I'd conquered my Achilles tendons. Which is a nice metaphor if you think about it.