That’s right, another injury.
Apparently during the holiday showcase, I stepped funny (I’m assuming do to the blisters) and sprained my foot.
I didn’t see a doctor about it until this past Monday, hoping it would just pass and be fine.
I talked to a doctor at my parents church who said it seemed I shifted a bone out of place.
Yeah, imagine me, in the back row of church, in a dress, with her pulling on my foot to make sure it was back in place.
So I settled on that for a while, druggin’ up on ibuprofen to keep the swelling down.
Two weeks later and it was still hurting, so I decided to see if I needed xrays to make sure nothing more was wrong with it.
Nope. Just a freakin’ grade 2-grade 3 foot sprain. Have to take it easy for a few more weeks.
So, no pointe.
Hopefully just two more weeks. The doctor said to wait until it feels better (which it is already improving) and warned to not start back too soon or I could risk permanent damage.
Quite the chatty fellow. He proceeded to tell me–through laughter–how silly it is to not wait out an injury, because it would just cause more time I’d have to be away later and possibly end my career.
He also made an interesting comment on how it doesn’t matter if you’re a beginner, in high school, experienced, professional–whatever. The risk is still the same all throughout.
“One you start football, no matter the level, you’re a football player. Once you start ballet, no matter if you’re just doing it recreationally or not, you’re a ballerina.”
I’m a ballerina.
I’m a ballerina.
This struck me.
I guess I always hesitated to label myself as such, seeing that I’ve only just completed my second year of (real) ballet and have so much in front of me to go. Maybe it’s because when you’re my age and say you’re a ballerina, people expect you to be hard core or–at least–tiny. But I still have much to learn and so much to improve on. I’m barely on pointe and even when I am, it seems a struggle to get to do anything without someone having to sit out.
I really don’t want to lose any of the muscle I’ve built up.
I want to be able to improve on it and work hard.
But for now, I have to wait.
No matter, I’ll do what I can do.
I’ll work on flexibility and abs. That doesn’t require my foot.
And what do you know,
I GOT MY RIGHT SIDE SPLIT!
Yes, ladies and gentlemen, at 25 years old, I have finally reached a goal of being able to do a split.
I went down into the right side split and was able to lift my hands and stay there. Almost have it on my left side, too, and center is getting better and better.
It was just a surprising little reminder that progress is happening.
Defeat is only defeat when you give up on trying.
I refuse to be defeated.