It’s back to the running, the road bike, and the pool at the butt crack of early morning. The foot is doing well (no bare feet, so no triathlon transitions yet, until after the 90th day post-surgery) and no trail running until late September. No swim fins, either, until the 90th day. But everything else is a go. There is still some swelling, which will remain for another month or so. But it looks like a nice, straight foot otherwise.
At the worst moments of getting better, I could not wait for this. And now? It’s a process. Most days, I’m fine getting up at 4:30 a.m. Some days, I wish only death to the alarm clock. I have my housecleaning routine back in order; certain tasks on certain days, with the weekends chore-free whenever possible (I admit to washing the kitchen floor this afternoon because my shoes were sticking to it). I still work from home, with zero intentions of returning to an office. Things like afternoon running, the ability to do laundry whenever, early dinner prep, and a quick weight workout matter more than sitting in an office with people I don’t like much who talk too much (to me and whoever is on their smartphone) and drag along their personal dramas and stinky lunches. It’s a little solitary sometimes, but my productivity is greater, and I can get up and move away from my desk without someone stopping me for “just a second” that turns into a 30-minute dissertation. I no longer worry about the overly sensitive coworker who begs for my honest opinion, only to get mad/sad/teary-eyed/defensive when I provide exactly what is asked for.
It’s good to be almost completely back and fully functional. And allowing my out-of-the-closet introvert to stand proud and tell the so-called experts who think all of us miss and need the shared experiences and advantages of the office, “Nah, I’m good.”