Step by step

Wow. Moving with only one crutch is excruciatingly tedious. That said, the tendon is realising that we are not playing anymore.

# Not so random thought: can you compress "we are not" to "we'ren't"? #

The quad, hamstring, calf and hip flexor exercises are now starting to pay off for more than aesthetic purposes. So we soldier on.

The Story of Achilles: The hare and the tortoise

12 weeks post-op. Two weeks ago, three weeks into physiotherapy, the therapist said I should start experimenting with putting weight on my injured side (although I had already taken a few unassisted steps and started riding again). Today, five weeks into therapy, she is frustrated with the doctors lack of follow-up attention and prescribes I use one crutch for the next two weeks, on stable ground - it's still raining although dry season has technically supposed to have begun. I can see the need to remove the crutches as soon as sensibly possible. I am already highly dependent on them if only for the sake of efficiency and fun, but at the cost of development. It is much easier and faster to use two crutches and one leg, than one crutch and two legs. But that means it would take twice as long for the recovering leg to learn it's basic functions again. To move faster tomorrow, I need to slow down and move steadily today.

I clearly have not stuck to the photo project.

Ouch

Over the four-day weekend I rode south for to consecutive days. I learnt how much depends on the proper functioning of one tendon. Without the ability to lift my body off the seat at a moments notice, my spine became an extension of my Suzuki GSXR-600's rear shock. Not comfortable. Today the lower back is paying for my indulgence and insolence.

The Story of Achilles: Get out, get down

I’m losing count of time again. Daybreak. Sunset. Moonlight. Repeat. I have tangible physical progress with my Achilles tendon, but with only abstract relation to previous benchmarks. February 2nd between five and six in the evening is the start, and since then every moment has been registered in history by the moments prior to it rather than by date. Days, weeks and months have lost their respective order. It is disconcerting only to the end that my goals are becoming abstract concepts of the future instead of a linear path of achievement.

I started riding again [recently].

I finally visited the origin of this particular journey [recently].

It’s Holy Week leading up to the most important event in my faith.

The Story of Achilles: How deep is your sole?

I’ve been dedicated to the strict regimen of therapy, and obsessed with getting off the reliance on crutches as soon as possible. I have become so accustomed to them, they are now accessories, toys, play things, getting more in the way than helping me along the way.

Progress.

Three insoles in my sneaker. One deep breath.

The Story of Achilles: Therapy Works

Two months post-op and I believe I've gone quite far along the road back to normal.

*sudden realisation*

Until I typed those words, it hadn't tangibly occurred to me just how long I've been sidelined. I have been simply facing each day and planning the next. This state of constantly striving for millimeters of flexibility, muscle control and abstract strength is my normal. Hmm.

I can stand completely unaided (almost, depending on wind conditions) and can now walk (hobble Quasimodo style) with only one crutch. The swelling still occurs when I forget to elevate and use the warm water bottle during the days at work. The nerve damage caused by the cast on the top of my foot which makes my toes tingle is subsiding, which indicates the ultrasound is doing what the therapists said it would. I need to remember to start a weekly photo-journal.