Unless you’re me.

Let me paint the picture for you. Derek, the boys, and I are gaily walking into a banquet hosted by Bay Area Fit (the running club I have been training with). I am super excited to see my friends, introduce Derek and the boys to my friends, eat a delicious dinner, and get pumped up for the big race on Sunday. Ahead of me I see a little run-off ditch in the parking lot. I think to myself “make sure you tell the boys not to get in that nasty water.” I carefully step over the parking bump, and before I even know what’s happening, I am on the ground, in the nasty water, tears welling up, with an intense pain shooting up my foot. Logan is crying. I am crying, Derek is doing his best to comfort us both, and Connor is watching this unfold with a look of confusion on his face.

One of my fellow runners stops to ask if I am ok. I smile and say yes, all the while thinking I am really not. But I am not going to let this ruin the evening. So I get up, hobble inside, find my friends, get some ice for my foot, and put on a happy face for the evening. But honestly I am concerned about my foot because it hurts. Bad.

We get in the car to come home, and I lose it. I started to cry as I realize that I might not be able to run on Sunday. 6 months of hard work lost in a moment. I call my mom (because, just admit it. When your hurt all you really want is mommy to make you feel better.) She suggest I call James since he is working that night in one of the ER’s nearby. An hour later, my mom and I are headed to the hospital.

The good news: It’s not broken!
The bad news: It’s now 18 hours until the start time and I can barely walk.
The good news: There are 2 more marathons in Texas in February. I can (and will) run in one of those.
The bad news: It’s really disappointing that I won’t get to run with Ruth and Jenn after spending so much time training with them.
The good news: My family is still here and we will have a fun weekend regardless of what happens tomorrow.

I am still going to stay in the nice hotel we booked downtown, I am still going to be there cheering my friends on and experiencing the marathon. And maybe I will experience a miraculous healing. And if I don’t, then I will just remember that God is in control of this whole situation, and for whatever reason, the Houston Marathon wasn’t meant to be.

This is just so classic. Only me. I am such a spas!