Part 20: Daily Pain, a Marathon, and the 100-Subscriber Milestone

From cutting toenails to walking through crowds - what used to be ordinary now teaches me patience, presence, and strength.

Familiar actions – unfamiliar pain

The things that used to feel simple still test my limits. I only realize this after I’ve already done them.

Cutting my toenails, for instance. They’ve grown out again, and reaching them in a bent position – one leg lifted – is manageable at first. But straightening back up is far from pleasant. A couple of hours later, that familiar burning pain creeps into the middle of my back.

It’s the same after brushing my teeth, cooking a basic meal, or washing a few dishes. These movements often bring pain in my ribs, around the solar plexus, along with sharp, electric-like zaps across different parts of my spine. These sensations have lingered for weeks – I suspect the muscles and nerves are rebuilding their broken connections.

Sneezing experiment: not yet approved

One day, I felt a sneeze coming. I decided not to resist – to test the waters. Bad idea. The jolt of pain through my chest and spine was instant and sharp. I’m not ready for sneezing yet.

Pain is a constant – not a stop sign

I try to be cautious, but I’ve learned that pain and discomfort are now part of the road to recovery. I don’t fight them – I accept them. That’s why I continue my slow walks outside, 2,000–2,500 steps at a time. In total, I average about 4,000–4,500 steps a day, counting the ones I take around the apartment.

A visit to the mall – slow motion in fast-forward

For the first time in 2.5 months, I went to a shopping mall. Nata wanted to check out some sneakers, and I went along to keep her company.

The crowd felt overwhelming – people rushing with bags, chatting, snacking, sipping coffee. I moved slowly and carefully, out of sync with the flow, like someone dropped into a time-lapse video. But I didn’t mind being part of that energy for a while.

The titanium question

I had been putting off a small research task – sometimes ignorance is easier. But I finally looked into what it would take to remove the metal plates from my back.

In France, the doctors told me it might be possible in 1–2 years, if I wanted to. Back then, that was enough. I thought, eventually, I’d like my body to be “natural” again.

Now I’ve learned that removing the hardware is a complex surgery. It’s a procedure similar to the one I already went through. It’s only done when complications arise: pain, irritation, infection, or mechanical dysfunction. Most people live with the implants for life.

So, I’ve accepted that this piece of metal will likely stay with me. Looks like I’ll remain a part-time cyborg.

Running memories and marathon emotions

One day, a marathon passed through our city – 42 kilometers, thousands of runners.

I started running in 2019, and over the years I ran 3,700 km across 472 runs, including six half-marathons. Running is joy for me – not about performance, though I still tracked results.

We took the dog and went to watch the runners. They were at the 32-km mark – deep into the race, with the hardest part still ahead.

I didn’t expect it to hit me so emotionally. It felt like watching your child perform at an event they’ve worked so hard for – you’re proud, but painfully aware that you’ll never stand on that stage again.

I felt genuine joy for the runners, and a twinge of sadness that I couldn’t join them – not even for a shorter distance. Human nature often longs for what’s just out of reach.

But I reminded myself: running a marathon was never my goal. I don’t want the intense prep, the strain it puts on the body. My goal is to return to running for joy – for balance and flow. That reminder grounded me. I smiled and kept cheering for the runners passing by.

Substack experiments and 100+ subscribers

I continue to jot down ideas on my phone as they come – because if you don’t write them down in the moment, they vanish. That habit has paid off.

I’ve been experimenting with Notes, updated my profile bio and photo, and kept showing up regularly. And it’s working – I’ve just crossed the 100-subscriber mark!

Substack is full of interesting people with meaningful stories. It’s a place that invites creativity and encourages support. That’s why I created a Free Substack Starter Guide – for beginners who want a clear, short path to their first 100 subscribers. If you’re curious, you can download it here. It’s totally free.

Thank you for reading my ongoing story of recovery and return.

If you enjoyed it, feel free to like, comment, or share it with someone who might find it helpful.

See you on Saturday!