“In considering what Tess was not, he overlooked what she was, and forgot that the defective can be more than the entire.” –Tess of the d’Urbervilles
You have probably heard it said that a broken bone, upon healing, is stronger than the bone prior to the break. I thought about this each night for the past two months, visualizing the fracture in my foot evolving into something of an impenetrable fortress that would never–could never–break again.
But then I read this article, and discovered that bone science did not support this belief, and that my formerly fractured foot is no stronger than it was before.
But bone science cannot measure my personal growth, my heightened mental toughness, my increased capacity to endure as a result of not being able to do for two months what I love more than anything else to do: run. Science can’t measure the extent to which my defective self has surpassed my former entire.
See, I learned something in the past two months that only the ache of experience can teach, a lesson that reaches far beyond a triathlon finish line, to the loneliest corners of injury, failure, and heartache:
When we can no longer do what we love to do, we have the choice to fall in love anew.
More on weathering the storm of injury:
Thank you, Sarita, for my sweet little necklace!