ouch!

I almost broke my toe on Friday afternoon (x-rays confirm it is just a nasty sprain). I wish it had been the result of some high-adventure exploit, come during a stunning athletic victory or involved the saving of small children. But no, I was organizing the garage. While carrying a box of birdseed I tripped (on what?) and fell to the ground. En route one sandal flew off and two toes made contact with the top of my foot. I am pretty sure that’s not supposed to happen, anatomically speaking. Note to self: the fancy toe-guard rubber on Keens does not work if shoe is removed from foot.

An injured toe is no big deal, as several church members reminded me in recounting their own stories of broken digits on Sunday. I don’t even mind limping around, that much. I realize my body will heal on its own. What I am not looking forward to is three to six weeks without running. The pinkie toe is such a small body part it seems unreasonable that its injury would disrupt an activity that benefits every other part of my body. Hopefully I will be able to cycle (or go to spin class more likely) once I can put a shoe on.

Right now, a little more than 48 hours later, I am full of restless energy and really wanting to go for a run. Reading my latest RUNNERS WORLD magazine cover to cover this afternoon did little for my ability to sit still and wait to heal. Surprise, I know. For the record, I expect no sympathy on the “I can’t run” front either. One church member told me, “I’ve not run for six weeks straight lots of times.” The fact that she probably hasn’t run six times in her adult life made the quip funny but not comforting.

Last Tuesday I was with a group of clergy and we were asked what distracted us from ministry. Not distracted as in, “I can’t get my work done because…” but distracted like “I remember there is something more to me than my pastoral responsibilities.” My first answer was exercise, I make it a central part of my day 5 times a week. Those are the moments where I am not necessarily a pastor, only a slow but committed runner or cyclist.

Oh forget it. No sense explaining to you what running/cycling means to me. Just know that it means a lot. And I can’t do it for awhile. And that’s disruptive to my equilibrium.

step, clunk, step, clunk, step, clunk, step....here I go.