Dear FutureKati,

How are you doing? It's Veteran's Day today, which is sometime in November. I could look up the date by clicking at the bottom of the screen, but I'm too lazy to bother. You know me.

We're still working on the nano project, although besides outlining the next chapter, we didn't really do much by way of writing yesterday. Maybe today will be more productive. We're still ahead of schedule, though: 20,358, or something like that. We're good. Is that enough small talk? I think it is.

Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about this foot injury that happened 12 1/2 months ago. You know the one I'm talking about-- Dublin Marathon, trying to hide in the Wicklow Mountains, but then our tour start two blocks from the starting line, six months of training wasted (although we did manage to raise a tidy sum for the AIDS Foundation of Chicago). Remember how we cried in that restaurant over a Guinness when we realized that since walking was so painful there was no way in hell we could run 26.2 miles? Remember how we hobbled around for weeks afterward, and even after we were too stubborn to limp anymore how the pain shot through our foot with every step for months? And remember how it still twinged for months more, even after walking had more or less returned to normal?

Think on this. Really think on this. Because, I know you, FutureKati. I know you've probably been having dreams of running again, and you see people running all over Oahu, and you're getting sentimental about how you wish you could run again, and you're thinking it's been months since your foot hurt so maybe it'll be okay this time.... Well, it's not. Don't run. And don't do high-impact aerobics either. You cannot mess with your foot like that, because it will hurt. You may not remember the pain very clearly right at this moment, FutureKati, but I do, so listen to me. You. Can. Not. Run. Anymore.

I know the memory of the pain fades with time. I myself had been thinking that it couldn't have been that bad, and I probably could have run that Marathon if I'd just had more strength of character. You're probably thinking this too, FutureKati, which is why you're considering trying to run again. So I want you to consider how stubborn you are. And I want you to consider how long you'd trained for the Dublin Marathon, how much work you had put into it. And I want you to consider people's expectations-- think of how John DiMucci got you to Dublin and how very, very, very much you would not want to let him down. Think of these things and imagine what would have been necessary to make you NOT run. It probably wasn't a flight of fancy, was it?

Now I want you to remember me-- PresentKati, or more appropriate to you, PastKati. It's November something, 2007. More than a year later. And I did some high impact aerobics yesterday. And it wasn't even a huge stress on my body, but, repeatedly lifting my foot and bringing it back to the ground was too much for the poor dear. This. Hurts. Before we went to the doctor last year, we thought our foot was broken. That's because it feels like it is broken. It is highly unpleasant, and at this point I can only hope that this doesn't last for weeks or months like it did last year. Please don't do this again. Listen to me, FutureKati. Don't. Do. This. Again. Get a bike. Find a place with a workout machine that involves moving but not stepping. But for the love of god, don't go running. It was nice while it lasted, but it's just not in us anymore.

Now, I'm going to leave it to FutureMichael to remind us of this post when you, FutureKati, start thinking that foot injury thing hadn't been so bad afterall. But it is up to you, FutureKati, to swallow your pride and find something else to do that will take care of your desire to run. I have faith in you. You're a very creative person. And this isn't failure. This is injury. Take care. And tell FutureMichael I said Hi. I bet he's still really cute, yeah?

peace,
PresentKati
A.K.A. PastKati