To say I’m a little depressed would be accurate.

I’m realizing today that I’m going to have to ask for way more help than I like to ask for.

I went to kill a spider last night, caught my toe on the hem of my pants, and ultimately broke my foot. It will be casted on Wednesday, if they don’t need to put a plate and screws in it. What does this mean? It means no running…obviously, but the bigger issue – no driving. Wow, does this limit what I can do.

I wanted to argue with the doctor – I wanted to say “no, I can drive…you don’t understand, I work part time…driving my children places is what I do”. But there is no arguing about it…I saw the xray (I have a souvenir copy of the pictures), I broke my foot. I cannot drive.

I am realizing my limits. Which I imagine is something I will do slowly over the next month.

I have really taken pride in accomplishments in the past couple years, pride in losing weight, pride in running like I do, pride in getting my children all the places they need to go when they need to be there. I was “taking it back”, and I used that phrase to describe self transformation more than once.

What a humbling experience to have to ask for help.

I’m afraid to become a problem for those that will be driving me around. I’m afraid the weight is going to come back with the inability to exercise. I’m afraid of failing at meeting one of my new years resolution goals. And I’m terribly disappointed to have to miss the 4 races that Nathan and I had signed up together to do this fall.

I am trying to stay positive about it. There are WAY worse things than a broken foot. WAY worse. It is what it is…and it is fixable. It’s just not easy.