Last Updated on November 15, 2012 by Heather Hart, ACSM EP
Today’s post is once again brought to you by the left hand, with a little help from the awkward right pointer finger. This one took forever.
I broke my hand.
Remember that beautiful RockTape job in the last post? Well after 36 hours of no relief, I caved and headed to the hospital where an xray confirmed that I had indeed snapped my right 4th metacarpal. I felt sorry for myself for all of 0.05 seconds, until the two other patients I shared a room with, I’ll nickname them “Mr. Heart attack” and “Sir Blocked Upper Intestine Requiring Life Saving Emergency Surgery” made me realize how lucky I am. For I’d rather break a hand while exercising and taking care of my body versus the certain outcome those who take their bodies for granted will eventually face. Consider this your Heather PSA for the day. Wanna know why you should eat well and exercise NOW? Head to your local ER and check out all of the unfortunate middle-agers who walk through the door with gnarly ailments. Now, I understand that some things can be genetic, however the barrage of conditions my “roomies” were rattling off to the nurses (congestive heart failure, diabetes mellitus, irritable bowels, arthritis, high blood pressure) …not to mention the numerous medications…can be avoided by the majority of us if we just take care of ourselves NOW.
Now, all of that said, I have this ridiculous gigantic splint on my right hand and half of my forearm that makes everything quite hilarious. God bless Geoffrey Hart and his patience for having to do things like tie my shoes, cut my fruit, and put my hair into a ponytail. I feel like a preschooler. The seemingly awesome request of “can you strip me down and tie me up?” only refers to helping me unzip my sweatshirt and securing a plastic bag over my splint so I can attempt to shower. Add in the fact that I just got toothpaste all over my face trying to brush with my left hand, I can’t stop laughing at the ridiculousness over the fact that I did this during a BOX JUMP.
Now, all of that said, I have this ridiculous gigantic splint on my right hand and half of my forearm that makes everything quite hilarious. God bless Geoffrey Hart and his patience for having to do things like tie my shoes, cut my fruit, and put my hair into a ponytail. I feel like a preschooler. The seemingly awesome request of “can you strip me down and tie me up?” only refers to helping me unzip my sweatshirt and securing a plastic bag over my splint so I can attempt to shower. Add in the fact that I just got toothpaste all over my face trying to brush with my left hand, I can’t stop laughing at the ridiculousness over the fact that I did this during a BOX JUMP.
Truth be told, I am pretty surprised it took me 30 years to break a bone. I started dancing (ballet and tap) at age 5, and since then I’ve always been doing something active. Softball, basketball, soccer, track & field all through school. There were the winters my friend and I would spend acting like Olympic figure skatersidiots on ice skates. I hate to admit it, but there were many college drunken nights where I vaguely remember stupid feats such as riding down hills on office chairs or roller blades. Then I moved South and took up surfing and skateboarding. Years later came the running…then cycling…then crazy obstacle course racing. All of that and nary a broken bone in 30.5 years, I do consider myself lucky.
And while better a metacarpal than a metatarsal…or a femur…I’m still not too thrilled about it. While I await what I can only hope to be a smaller (ha!) cast when I visit the ortho on Friday morning, I’m currently trying to woman up to the possibility that my right hand is virtually useless for at least the next 6 weeks.
Last night in the gym I threw a temper tantrum. I think internal melt down might be a more appropriate term. Completely unnoticeable to other gym patrons, but enough to leave me feeling the steam coming out of my ears and poor Geoff wondering who this b*tch was that abducted his happy-go-lucky girlfriend. I had worn an old pair of tri-shoes for the ease and convenience of their quick tie (or not tie at all) laces. 10 minutes into a run on the treadmill I realized those shoes were WAY past their prime and should have been sent to sneaker heaven long ago. Same result on the dreaded elliptical: sore feet. So I joined Geoff for a few upper body weight exercises, doing left arm only. 12 sets of 3 exercises later I was left feeling unbalanced and…you guessed it…frustrated. Geoff suggested abs, except there wasn’t a mat to be found, I can’t plank with the hand (yet), and all of the silly ab weight machines (I despise them!) require you to grip something. I stormed over to the elliptical and willed myself not to cry.

So many people, including their father, my BFF, and probably 100 others who have no idea what they are talking about, seem to think that my complete lack of outward emotion or even mentioning of it seem to signal I’ve grown distant or complacent about the situation. That I’ve become accustomed to life without kid-responsibilities. Honestly, I can’t blame them, as I would probably think the same if I was on the outside looking in. The truth is, I would give anything to have my 4 year old wake me up at 3 am, and then 3:15 am, and then 3:30 am for the most ridiculous reasons. I miss the sibling throw downs I have to referee, I miss the whining, I miss the messes, and more than anything I miss the hugs and kisses. But life isn’t always perfect. There are only 2 people in this world who know the whole truth of this situation, and only one of them knows how it really knocked me off my feet. A lot of healing had to happen, a lot of pieces are still being picked up off the floor and put back where they are supposed to be. And now it is solely a financial issue, but soon enough my boys and I will be together again.
So in the interim, I don’t talk about it. I don’t whine about it, I don’t post about it, and I only try to cry about it when I’m alone. It was my decision to let them live with their father for a while, so I must live with my decision, and thus, I don’t talk about it. Call me heartless. I call it survival.
So instead, I sweat it out.
Running, the gym, pushing my physical limits has been my mental release, my therapist, and anti-depression medications all in one for years, this last one in particular. So many people don’t understand that, but I suspect many of you reading this do. My coping skills work best with a heavy dose of endorphins. A good run or some PR’s in the weight room will almost always ease the “I’m a failure at life” feelings that creep in from time to time.
To put a great big physical limitation on my “therapy”, at a time when I really need it, temporarily freaked me out.
As we left the gym, we discovered my car had a flat tire. “Great, just what I effing need”, I thought to myself. What ELSE could go wrong, WHY ME?
Without hesitation, my most amazing boyfriend, who hates the cold quite possibly as much as I do, hopped out of the car and got to work changing the tire in the 20 degree night darkness, without a single groan or complaint. And I know it sounds silly and cliché, but it made me realize how truly lucky I am to have him. I mean, I always know how lucky I am when it comes to him, but at that moment, it was more than that. I realized how truly lucky I am in so many aspects of my life. Sure I’m not with my kids right now, but they are in a beautiful home with people who love them. No I don’t have my dream job, but I have a full time job. And a car to get flat tires in, and a roof over my head, and friends and family who love me. Yes its cold in this currently miserable state, but it is beautiful New England that has brought me so much peace over the last year, and where I met the person who has reminded me what it feels like to be loved, and who helped bring my happy back.
Just like the bones in my hand will fall back into place and heal with time, so will my life and my heart. It has already started. And all will be stronger because they’ve been broken.
Stupid metacarpal and wooden plyo box…thanks for the life lesson.
Onward…
Megan
Heather, you’re so brave. And I’m proud of you for staying true to yourself in your writing. I love going back and reading your old blog entries (just re-read the one about IronGirl Columbia w/ Team Fight – I’m going to do that in 2013!) because it’s clear you love what you’re doing. I don’t think anyone could ever think that you don’t love your kids or miss them desperately. I think you’re just throwing yourself into other things so that you don’t have to think about it all the time. You’re doing what you have to.
Courtney @ Journey of a Dreamer
Thank you for sharing this. I hate that people can get off thinking they can judge our situation based on our outward response, when they have no idea the condition of our heart. I’m sorry you broke your hand (doing box jumps, nonetheless!) but I’m so proud of you for turning it into a life lesson
Brenna Kate Simonds, Living Unveiled
Praying for you, Heather! As a mom of 2 boys (similar ages, too!), I know how much heart-breaking thought went into your decision. Praying you get to see them SOON!
Lindsay @ The Lean Green Bean
thinking of you! don’t let anyone judge you for doing what’s best. like you said, they don’t know the whole story. keep your head up. both bones and hearts will heal with time. until then, stay strong and keep being the amazing person that you are! xoxo
runnerwannabe
Really good one. I know how you feel as one of my girls is living with her father this year. I can’t imagine having to be away from them that young though, as Kylah is 15 and it was her choice. You know what you feel, and most people don’t question you missing them. I think you are incredibly strong for doing what is best for your boys, instead of putting your wants first. I hope you heal quickly so you can get Bach to your “therapy” routine.
erins
Sometimes Mommy has to take care of herself so that she can care for her family. Lots of hugs.
Shelley
I don’t show emotion or talk about how I feel with anyone which leads most to think I am cold or a bitch. I deal with things internally. You can tell in your writing that you miss your kids and love them with all your heart and knowing they are happy and loved with their dad is a good thing.
I grew up with divorced parents and I know its hard but it made me a stronger person and made me appreciate my family so much more.
Hope your hand heals quickly and you are right about the ER and seeing people who are young come in taking a grocery list of meds that could be easily controlled with weight and exericse and food.
Kristen L
I totally understand how it feels to not be able to do anything — I had my right arm in a sling for two months, and couldn’t even use my fingers. Sorry to hear about your hand. You will figure out ways to get in your workout (and help you feel sane!), I’m sure of it! THank you for being true to yourself and sharing some of those tough feelings.
Haley @ Climb Run Lift Mom
Oh Heather, I didnt’ even realize you didn’t have your boys. Don’t let anyone make you feel bad though. You do what you have to as a mother, even if it’s not the best for us because it’s best for our kids. Hope you hand heals quickly!!!
Brandie Brown
Praying for you Heather! I am a newer blog follower and you are such an inspiration. I pray for your healing heart and healing hand:)
AmyZ, PhD
Having a blog does not mean you have to put your entire self out there for everyone to see all the time. Obviously, those that might try to judge you because you are not talking about your kids and therefore thinking you are having the time of your life without them (perhaps a bit of an exaggeration) are not people you really need in your life. With a blog, it is easy to block them out anyway!
Dr. David Powers
Like you said, the best thing you can do is just to keep moving…Onward.
The Quirky Gluten Free Runner
Many of thhose symptoms can be signs of.celiac disease which is greatly undiagnosed in the US…it takes an avg of 10 years to be diagnosed…..
sorry about your hand!
The Quirky Gluten Free Runner
Many of thhose symptoms can be signs of.celiac disease which is greatly undiagnosed in the US…it takes an avg of 10 years to be diagnosed…..
sorry about your hand!
Jessica Ryall
I started running out of heartache and feeling like a failure at life …I pray for a speedy healing for your hand and heart!! Sometimes it’s the strangest things that teach us the best lessons in life.
Bill Fisher
I can relate to some of what you say. I get my kids 2 days a week and spend many drives home with tears in my eyes and then breakdown as soon as I get home to the empty house. Also I share that passing “failure at life” feeling from time to time. Having said said that it is nothing less than amazing that you choose to inspire others like me. I’m gonna say a prayer for your hand and that you and your kids are back together real soon.
Bill
Courtney D
Your hand will heal. It will be very frustrating. I am still healing from my very first broken bone this May. It took me 30 years as well. Smashed my pinky finger into three parts on my right hand by running into a curb on my bike. I had a huge cast as well. Eight weeks of being casted with two pins in my finger. It was a very hard time. Extremely frustrating. But after a few days of feeling sorry for myself, I figured out how to work with this massively awkward and huge cast. I couldn’t swim, couldn’t bike, but I could still run. And boy did I need that to keep me sane . Even if the Dr. woudn’t approve, I needed to run. Not for me physically, but for my mental health. I couldn’t let the break beat me so I continued to run and race.
You will make it through it. You will be strong. You have a great support system. This is a minor set back to let you know you are still human and you can break. But it won’t hold you back. You learn to adapt and get through it. At least that is what I learned from it. But it will only make you stronger. Things will work out!
Noel Nelson
I pray for a speedy recovery of your hand and heart. I admire your will power and positive attitude. Truly said that the best thing you can do is just to keep moving onward.
Tribulus Terrestris