Over the holidays I'd been easing back in to more strenuous movement: A little bit of jumping. Some solo practice for tension-free strengthening. Lots of P.T. exercises. I felt reacquainted with my legs, the floor under my feet, my muscles working against gravity, the return of sensation.
But now it's back to stillness. My foot ached constantly for three days and it's post-hike-day-five now. Although it doesn't ache anymore it feels fragile, untrustworthy. I try to just rest, rest, rest. On the bright side, this new setback has somehow led me to track correctly across my injured foot for the first time in two months. And my amazing P.T., Emily, tells me I probably just overused it and that I could try to dance a bit today.
So there's that.
This morning I wake early, assemble my usual breakfast (bacon, two eggs over-easy, spinach, a mug of coffee, a mug of almond milk, bone health supplements), and read the NYTimes (a Christmas gift from Robert and Julia). I put KT tape on my foot. The steam radiator fizzles busily and I am warm wearing a tank top. Later, I'll bundle against the cold, swipe on some sunscreen in defiance of the unflagging winter light, and take the bus to Jersey. A horde of California-dancer-friends have descended upon the area for the Manhattan Amateur Classic, as well as some displaced-to-the-east-coast-California-d
Other than that, I have been passing the days carefully. The holidays were calm and easy; I spent all of it with family. Even now the memories are turning into the nostalgia that remains: love, sunlight, shared time. My grandmother called me on Thursday, and it was so sweet to hear her voice. We chatted a little bit, and laughed, and she said, "you really are like me." My adventurous, wise, strong grandmother..I would be happy to grow up to be like her.
But for now, I am just me, fragile and still healing.