Traini ... er, actually, I've lost track. So, let's try this: 17 Weeks Left or Running IN Water

When I last wrote all those weeks ago my doctor had pared away bits of my foot and forbade me to run. She still has not given the okay to run and I'm pretty sure she placed a surveillance device in my foot to make sure I don't. If you thought I was panicked before, imagine me upon hearing this news.
What am I going to do? I can't run. I'm not even supposed to walk long distances. Meanwhile my wife is gloating on Facebook about how far she's run; rubbing it in every chance she gets, "Honey, I'm going to run ten miles tomorrow morning," and "I've been running so much I have to buy a new pair of running shoes."

My running shoes in the meantime have started complaining about the dust gathering on them and trying to get me to at least take them up to my wife's closet full of shoes where they at least have the chance of a date.

I was about to ignore my doctor's warnings when I remembered that I used to swim. I swam a lot as a kid. One of my friend's mother was a life guard at a local pool. We would go there frequently and swim until the pool closed or we turned blue from the cold.
Swimming! Great idea. There is even a pool nearby that has times just for lap swimming. I was all set ... except, well, my arm.

My right arm is mad at me for some reason. If I move it too fast, or in a certain direction, or too slow, or in another direction, or not at all it screams at me and send sharp pains up and down itself. This makes it rather hard to use my arms to swim. But I decided it was my best shot at continuing to train for my potential reenactment of the very first marathon.

I got in the water, kicked my legs, tried to stroke with my arm and promptly blacked out from the pain and drowned.

Okay, not really, but it hurt a lot. Not wanting to give up (not because I am resilient, but because I had already paid for a month and I am cheap) I turned over and commenced the backstroke. Or as I like to think of it, "the self-induced waterboarding stroke." No matter how hard I kicked my feet I did not seem to be getting anywhere and my arm did not care that I was now on  my back. It glared at me, picked it's teeth with a knife, and dared me to try another stroke. 

My brilliant swimming idea was not going as planned. Then I stumbled across this:

This is a water jogging belt. It keeps the wearer upright so that they can run in the water. So, until my doctor gives me the okay to run on land, I'll be running in water.

And please, don't forget why I am doing this in the first place. Click the link above and donate money to a great cause.