Reality check, podiatry-style
This winter has not been easy on me- I have been hanging in there by the skin of my teeth. Around November or so, the amount of exercise I was doing began to creep up...and up and up. Yet it took until the middle of this month for me to realize that things were really out of control. My weight had dropped some, nothing catastrophic, but also nothing to sneeze at. I have managed to get back on track with the exercise and eating, in part due to a painful left foot.
For the past month or so, I have had this nagging foot pain that wasn't getting any better. I got a referral to the podiatrist about two weeks ago, and finally got in for an appointment this morning. He took one look at my foot, poked at a spot he said "looked puffy" (I couldn't really tell
the difference), poked it causing me to yelp, and said, "Yep- that's a stress fracture." X-rays confirmed the diagnosis.*
What does this mean for Carrie? No exercise--none--for about three weeks, and then only non-weight-bearing things like swimming or a stationary bike. I also have some fun footwear in the form of a walking cast, aka The Boot. Otherwise, rest, Advil, and ice, with orders to come back for more x-rays in about a month.
Well, shit.
A metatarsal stress fracture is pretty classic of the female athlete triad, the combination of osteoporosis, disordered eating, and amenorrhea. Although I currently get a period, I do have a history of osteoporosis/osteopenia (depends on the bone- my spine is the worst), and the disordered eating--well, you knew that. It's not that I think I'm invincible. I've experienced too many things to really believe that. But I didn't think the ED would keep affecting me, even after being in recovery.
And the more I think about it, the more I realize exactly how driven and disordered my behavior was. I was exercising several hours a day on a fractured foot. This sort of behavior is light-years away from wanting to look like the ingenue of the week or getting some sort of revenge at Mommy Dearest for not letting me go on Spring Break in high school. This sort of behavior is tremendously biologically driven and very addictive in nature.
I'm kicking myself (with my good foot) for letting the exercise get out of hand. I feel I should have known better. Although I've had exercise issues in the past, they never approached many of the stories I would hear in treatment. My behavior was compulsive, although not phenomenally excessive. This time around, however, it was both.
I want to forget, I really want to forget, how much ED lurks and may always lurk. I want to think there will be a day when I can relax and be a little less vigilant. But for now, I have to remember that Mad-Eye Moody said it best: The price of freedom is eternal vigilance.
*It's not uncommon for stress fractures in the foot to fail to appear on an x-ray, but sometimes they do.









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