At many points in my life, I have heard the phase “accept the things you cannot change and control the things you can.” During the past three weeks, I have been doing just that every single day.

In my last post, I wrote about my slip on an icy patch while in the yard with the dogs. My immediate reaction was “There is no way I am walking away from this without a break.” I had an xray done the next day which showed there wasn’t a fracture, but my wrist was becoming more sore and less mobile each day. I tried swimming twice, and both times my speed was slower than normal. I thought it was likely because I wasn’t able to pull water with my left arm and, still worried that there might be a fracture, I decided to stop swimming until my wrist was feeling better. The last thing I wanted was to hit a potential fracture against the wall or on the heavy ropes that separated the lanes.

Almost two weeks after landing on the ice, I returned to urgent care. I knew my wrist was broken and the doctor agreed. She sent me back to the hospital for another set of x-rays, which revealed a fracture at the “hook” of the hamate, which extends from the fourth finger towards the wrist. Fifteen days after my fall, I was put into a temporary cast; two days later, that was switched for a fibreglass cast. “Don’t let it get wet” was the advice I was given. “So cover it with a bag when I shower, right?” I asked, followed by, “Is it okay if it gets sweaty?”

I have two road races in March, a half-marathon and a 30Km, and, contrary to Garmin’s belief, my training has been great. This is a setback but I still have hope that I will be able to cover the distance even if I am not “racing.” On Monday night, after the temporary cast was put on, I headed to the gym to hop on a treadmill. “The time is now.” I struggled. I felt awkward, my pace was off because I couldn’t find the right speed and I kept hitting my hand against the dashboard. My casted left arm also kept pulling out the safety stop so I had to restart my run 5 or 6 times over my 8km run. I whined to my son on the way home, to which he replied, “Mom, you need to set the treadmill at a faster speed. You’re just running too fast for the speed you have it set at.” That made sense.

I wasn’t about to give up. I returned to the treadmill on Wednesday for a longer run (12km) and Friday (6km) and both were much better. I feel like l am finding my feet and ready to push myself into some intervals and longer distances. This is a fast learning curve.

I have also had to adapt the way I ride as I can’t stand on the pedals when climbing because I can’t hold the handlebars. This means that I need to watch that I am not riding with too much elevation.

Other tasks, from knitting to typing/texting to washing my hair and cleaning the house, seem to take forever but I am getting them done – slowly. And teacher friends, when a student shows up with a wrist in a cast, please, don’t assume that they can type instead of write. Honestly, it is hard and I have been avoiding the computer because I have been making so many typos that I get frustrated. While you can use your fingers, you can’t bend through the wrist; it is slower than usual and I make a lot of mistakes because the usual mobility is just not there. At times, it even hurts right through to my forearm because the overall position is different. I wish I knew this when I was teaching.

Obviously, swimming is still out of the question. I am worried about this as the swim is my weakest of the three triathlon events. However, my work through the fall and early winter is solid and I am confident that I will be able to build distance fairly quickly to where it was, hopefully in not too long of a time.

I am back at the fracture clinic in two weeks, when I think I will be put into a removable cast. If that happens and if I can continue with my long runs at the gym (this weekend’s snowstorm seems to be putting the brakes on that idea, though), I want to toe the line at the Chilly Half-Marathon at the beginning of March. If I can’t, then so be it. Acceptance.