If You Give a Runner an Injury: A Poem by Nicole Orejuela

** Inspired by Laura Numeroff's children's book, "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie" :)

If you give a runner an injury,

then they will deny it at all costs.

I'M FINE, she'll say.

IT'S NOT THAT BAD, he'll insist.

If they deny the injury,

then they will be completely shocked when it inevitably gets worse.

WHAT'S GOING ON, she'll scream.

I ALREADY AGREED TO TAKE AN EXTRA REST DAY,

WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT FROM ME!!

Then the runner will resort to a new tactic: bargaining.

She'll glare at her injured foot and argue,

OK, HOW ABOUT THIS: I'LL TAKE TWO WHOLE DAYS OFF IF YOU AGREE TO GET BETTER, BUT THAT'S MY FINAL OFFER.

But the foot has other ideas.

So when the pain only gets even worse (because that's somehow always possible), the runner again pivots ... or maybe a better word is "reverts" -- right back to denial

YOU KNOW WHAT, IT'S NOT THAT BAD.

HECK, I THINK IT MAY EVEN BE GETTING BETTER!

I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WAS SO WORRIED ABOUT,

she'll think as she takes off down her neighborhood street.

~ approximately 2 minutes later ~

I WAS WRONG, DEFINITELY WORSE, SO MUCH WORSE, she'll cry as she limps back home.

She isn't surprised when the X-Ray comes back with a giant line right down the middle of her foot;

she always knew deep down the truth,

but the confirmation still hurts.

A lot.

Maybe even more than the pounding in her foot.

So that night she stares up at her ceiling with her giant boot propped up on a throw pillow,

wondering where it all went wrong.

She dreams about early morning cross country practices and late night track meets,

and she wakes up in the morning with her cheeks stained with tears.

She looks down at her robotic foot,

and makes a promise to herself.

I WILL NEVER IGNORE WHAT MY BODY IS TELLING ME EVER AGAIN.

AND I WILL BE BACK,

EVEN BETTER THAN BEFORE.

And that is a promise she intends to keep.

Because when you give a runner an injury,

they now know to rest and give their body a break.