May 6, 2013: I still haven't recovered from my tendinitis... AND I have no money either

Whichever the correct spelling: tendinitis or tendonitis... I still haven't recovered from "it."

To recap starting in Mid-March, I ran home from a bar in dress shoes; this spur-of-the-moment run destroyed my feet and knees, and resulted in shin splints, (see this post). History repeats itself, and this time, I decided to return from the bar using a Hubway bike, namely, the new bike-sharing system in the Boston area. I was so excited to go meet my girlfriend that I probably pedaled faster than Armstrong (my blood at this time was equally intoxicated).

Lance, at age 2

As a matter of fact, my foot, which just started to feel better, was hurting again. Badly. My next appointment to the podiatrist is May 15th.  That's actually the day where I have to go to court for my speeding ticket (see this post). Meanwhile, I've been icing my fee every hour on the hour: my left foot for the pain, and my right foot so I remember to drive carefully. Alea jacta est.

"Running is the cheapest sport, you only need good shoes." Not when you wanna race. Not when you're injured. Not when you're a dickhead. Since I registered for the marathon 3 months ago, my marathon related expenses are as follow:

- Chicago marathon entry fee - $175
- Hotel in Chicago - $600
- Airplane ticket - $300
- Podiatrist x2 - $80
- Advil, Motrin - $20
- Sports bandages - $20
- Bluetooth heart rate monitor and running apps - $90
- Sports armband for Nexus 4 - $20
- Brooks Dyad 7 - $95
- Gatorade, about 1 pack a week - $70
- Protein shakes, about 3 a week - $100
- Chocolate chips oat bars, 2 before each workout - $50
- Penetrex x2 - $40
- Arnicare Gel - $20
- Arnica Montana - $20
- Books about running - $25
- Epsom salts - $5
- 5k and half-marathon entry fees - $100
- Gym membership, 3 months - $180

This ingenious bandaging goes for $100/ emergency visit. No, X-Rays are not included. 

Running shoes are about 100 bucks a pop. Probably made by Sri Lankan preteens for $2.

This is what $80 from the podiatrist will get you. The prescription is for standard Ibuprofen, by the way. Really no need for the pharmaceutical manpower. 

GRAND TOTAL = $2,010.

April 30, 2013: I'm finally going to the podiatrist

As you may know... on April 1st, I was granted excruciating extensor tendonitis completing 13.1 on a treadmill. Initially I thought the pain would persist for only a few days at most. A week and a half later, I was incapable of even running around the block with my girlfriend. So we went out and got wasted on a Wednesday instead. Went to Florida for vacation...and couldn't even make it once around the geriatric loop. During this really shitty month of April (see the marathon attacks post), I've tried all of the following methods to heal my foot:

- Penetrex ointment

- Arnicare Gel

- Arnica Montana 30ch

- Massaging my foot

- Elevating my foot

- Icing my foot

- Warm Epsom salt baths

- Cotton balls between toes

- Sticking my foot in my girlfriend's butt

- Praying to God and asking for repentance 

- Asking for a raise at work

ALL OF THE ABOVE WERE UNSUCCESSFUL.  At best it resulted in a nice temporary feeling; at worst my foot smelled like shit.

I then ran a local 5K race this past Sunday (put on the same mothereffers from my December/ holiday themed race. Refer to post numero uno, where I reveal that the only relevant running history was when I ran a 5K and was almost beat by a guy in a reindeer costume). So that 5K in Dec. went pretty well, I must admit. I ran it in 22 minutes, which was merely seconds from my goal. This time, however, I ran with my girlfriend and her friend. And it took me a whopping 27 minutes. My girlfriend and her friend arrived right soon after.

I beat the 8 year old girl by at least one second.

Though it's nice she ran this race out of spite support for me and my marathon training, it's hard for me to be happy for her. I'm a bastard. I don't care.

After these photos were released (where my girlfriend shines with pride as she delightfully crosses the finish line, and I am captured in a sea of middle-aged females), I couldn't take it anymore. This injury was now ruining my public image. So I sucked up my pride and finally consulted a podiatrist. After an extensive yelp search, I found a highly rated restaurant Doctor of Podiatric Medicine (DPM), and I obtained an appointment the same day. Almost scary, I agree.

Next thing you know, we'll have drive-thru triage. Actually, this already may be a reality. I didn't really check the caption in Google images.

My girlfriend came along to bitch support me during this, and to translate the doctor's thick Boston accent. Basically the appointment went something like this: 

I couldn't, for the life of me, decipher anything he said that used the phoneme "ar." Which is tricky when the whole problem is potentially stemming from ARCH related problems. He taped up my foot, asked me about my penchants for cheese and wine (because I'm French, these are my staples in my identity according to you Americans), and recommended that I change running shoes, take Motrin, and use new orthotics in my shoes.

I left the consultation feeling lingually confused, ethnically pigeonholed, and unsure (still) of my injury. So I did what anyone would do in that situation: I went and got 25¢ wings and beers from the local Irish pub down the street. Slainte!

Alright guys...

I NEED MORE READERS! If you laughed at least once reading this post, please post it on facebook, or send it to your grandmother. You will look cool. Plus it's getting really interesting now with my health problems. THANKS. (And it hurts to say thanks, trust me.)

Ciao per sempre (or until the next injury/ major news event regarding my city of Boston).