Love at first stride...

I've never been a runner.  As a kid, I hated running.  I remember the dreaded day in gym where we would file outside and line up for the mile run.  It was only four laps around the school, but it felt as though we were running a marathon.  I remember running the first half of a lap, and slowing to a walk.  I remember the kid who threw himself on the gravel pavement so he would be sent to the nurse and didn't have to finish.  In fifth grade, I remember being the third to last kid in my class to finish, taking the final steps across the line and hearing my time of 15 minutes being shouted out for all the students, who had been done long before me to hear.  I had hurt my ankle in gymnastics a few weeks earlier, and I had been limping for weeks.  My ankle was x-rayed over and over again, and nothing seemed to be wrong.  It was a few months later when we noticed a lump near my knee and I was diagnosed with Osteosarcoma, a rare form of bone cancer in my right tibia.  I underwent a year of chemotherapy and several major surgeries which attempted to salvage my leg, before I relapsed.  The cancer had spread to my lungs and I had another year of chemotherapy in front of me.  The second year of chemo was the last straw for the leg which already had been trying to heal in the midst of the harsh chemotherapy.  My father was in tears when he  pulled out the final x-ray of my lower leg.  My bone was nearly gone and would never heal.  My only choice was amputation.  Two days later my hospital room was filled with nearly twenty close family members and friends praying over me before I went in.

Eleven years later I stand strong today on two legs.  One which god has created for me, and the other a prosthetist named Chris.  The day I took home my first leg was the day I started living again.  I joined Tae Kwon Do and became a brown belt, before deciding I wanted to try out for the colorguard in High School.  I rode the Courage Classic, am 162 mile bike event over three mountain passes in the mountains of Colorado in order to raise money for the Children's Hospital in Denver.  I went to the University of Colorado at Boulder, and double majored in Psychology and Speech Language Hearing Sciences.  I graduated, took a year off to work, and got into a doctoral graduate program in Chicago, IL.  I left everything behind and took a huge leap of faith in the direction I knew would lead me closer to my dream of becoming a psychologist.  I recently finished my first year in my graduate program and know for a fact that I am exactly where I need to be.  The individuals in my program are my family here.  It's tough and stressful, but I love it.

I've always been a petite person, and although I have participated in althletic activities growing up, I've never really been the "sporty" type.  As a psych student, I'm constantly analyzing my own life, inluding my dreams.  I dream a lot about the things I desire but fear in life.  I am a very non-confrontational person, but find myself dreaming of yelling at someone angering me quite a bit.  One of my most frequent dreams is the one where I feel the wind rushing by my ears.  I look down and my legs are moving fast and I'm leaping from one step to another.  I'm running.

I recently saw a prosthetist out here in Chicago, and he almost immediately started asking my if I would ever want to try running.  I was hesitant at first, but I took a running foot home to try.  I started in the hallway of my building, cautiously placing one foot in front of the other first, and gradually lengthening my strides and increasing speed.  This was last week... and now... I'm completely addicted... :)

first run down the hallway

Photos of the "Ossur" running foot