Mastery

It was a somewhat significant week.

Cue dramatic photo

I started off worried, because my adorable little not-a-kitten-anymore Fionn (who turned 1 year old last week) managed to hurt his leg and has been on the limp since Sunday.

Though he did get to enjoy some sun and fresh air anyway,

I finally got to see a sports medicine doctor on Monday the 15th about that click in my foot at Sunburn Solstice. On the bright side, it doesn't seem to be a stress fracture - on the less bright side, I didn't really get any answers about what the click might have been. He had me rise up on my toes and walk around a bit, squeezed my foot in a couple of different ways, and was slightly dismayed at the difference between my two feet after the catastrophic injury last year. It seems the transverse/metatarsal arch on my left foot is collapsing, and it was suggested that I try an orthotic (which is not really a road I want to go down), or at least some metatarsal pads. I mentioned that I had seen a taping application for a midfoot injury, and the good doctor was very supportive of me trying it. Other than that, I was told to go see my favourite physiotherapist (for which I'm out of insurance coverage for the year) and not much else.

The taping application.

I ended up taking Monday off running, then was back at it with my taped-up foot on Tuesday.

When it rained sideways for the first 5mins, then the sun came back out to ensure it stayed unbearably hot and humid.

While the tape felt kind of nice - sort of like a hug for my foot - it didn't actually seem to do anything helpful. I stripped it off before I showered that evening, went to bed...and then woke up 40 years old.

I didn't really do anything to mark the day I became a Masters athlete, though to the surprise of probably no-one I did go for a run on my favourite Mississauga trails after work.

Water levels were a teensy bit high for creek yoga this week - you couldn't even see the rocks I usually stand on!

My birthday present from Mother Nature was the discovery of a massive bush absolutely dripping with perfect, ripe wild raspberries! Despite being right on a paved pathway behind a residential area just north of Burnhamthorpe, it seemed completely untouched - not even the squirrels or bunnies looked to have been nibbling.

I filled my hand bottle's pocket and still left loads of ripe berries behind!

Then, because my life is nothing if not full of annoying twists, I got myself trapped in a construction site.

Who could resist that gap in the fence?

Crap - ok, I guess I'll go back and cross the bridge to come out by the community centre..

CRAP

I ended up having to go back out the way I'd come, message Tanker to meet me in a different spot than we'd agreed on, climb a *bonus hill* up to Mississauga Valley Drive, and all told run an extra kilometer (and take almost an extra 45mins) on top of what I'd planned.

I did eventually make it to my mum's to visit and share my bounty of raspberries.

Not to mention the dairy-free Haagen-Dasz ice cream bars I picked up, as I ended up meeting Tank at a grocery store.

So apparently I haven't got any smarter with the conclusion of another trip 'round the sun - I may now be a Masters athlete, but I don't really feel like I've mastered anything. Nor do I feel any wiser, more settled, or in any way like I expected to as a 40 year old woman.

Hell - I even wore booty shorts for last night's still-hot-as-balls run.

On the bright side, I also don't feel as dull and stodgy as my middle aged status would suggest. I may be a bit more of a weenie about hurting myself than I was in my teens and twenties, but that's not to say I've lost my sense of adventure entirely.

I tried a new route through the singletrack trails on the way to the market on Saturday, which included some bushwhacking and doubling back.

..and I dangled my feet over a ledge high above the Grand River.

I may have a few more aches and pains than I did when I first began to run at age 29, but I've also seen and experienced so many more beautiful things along the way.

Like this bit of perfection in my own backyard.

I don't feel obliged to act my age - I'll keep on paddling my board and rocking a bikini if I damn well please.

My ink needs to breathe sometimes, y'know.

As hackneyed as it is to declare that "age is just a number", I figure the time to start acting like an adult will be when I actually feel like one. While I do have to take care of responsible things on occasion, I've not yet come to a point where the allure of calm predictability outweighs the temptations of chaotic, messy, and possibly risky diversions from the straight, narrow path of adult life.

I'm not over the hill, but I'm willing to hike up it.

So just like my little Fionn - who doesn't seem to realise he's not a kitten anymore - I'll keep chasing whatever seems like fun at the time, until it doesn't seem fun anymore.

And hopefully just like him, I'll bounce back from my latest injury.

Have a great weekend, folks!