The following article featuring the effects of injury and tips to get through the down time, was written by Sarah Barber and first appeared in the winter 2025 issue of ATRA’s quarterly newsletter.
Raise your hand if you’ve ever spent the holiday season in a boot. Not boots. Boot, singular. I’m talking about a bulky, rigid contraption not unlike a downhill ski boot, except instead of being made by Salomon or Tecnica, it’s made by United Ortho (or similar) and is available for purchase at a medical supply store near you.
Every trail runner out there can easily connect the dots and anticipate where this is going. Two days before Thanksgiving, I broke a bone in my foot, and the story is less than dramatic. Throughout the entire race season, I managed to stay upright during every competition, from the slickrock in Moab to the technical sections of the Dipsea trail, but a leaf-covered sidewalk edge was enough to take me down.
What followed was an accelerated journey through Elisabeth Kubler-Ross’s five stages of grief. Denial was instantaneous. I blinked back involuntary tears that accompanied the searing pain, got to my feet, convinced myself that it was nothing more than a rolled ankle, and I finished my run. Let’s not talk about how many miles or what it felt like, but I can assure you it wasn’t the smartest thing to do.
Thinking I was getting an x-ray simply to rule out anything more concerning than a sprain, I was surprised to see that the black and white image was what we call a janitor fracture, meaning that it didn’t require a radiologist to identify the small fragment of bone that was separated from the rest of my fifth metatarsal. I process emotions immediately and intensely, so my anger stage lasted all of 30 seconds. “Stupid leaves!” “Stupid curb!” “Stupid me for not being more attentive!” I skipped the bargaining stage entirely, as I knew there was no way to undo what was done. My depression stage, however, was massive. Even to me the ugly crying seemed out of proportion to the realityof my situation, but in those first 12 hours I had a hard time stopping. The next day, I didn’t bother to shower or even change out of pajamas.
Instead, I planted roots in the couch and scoured the internet for information on healing broken bones. From Pub Med to Reddit, I studied every word. By Thursday morning, though, I had no choice but to progress to the fifth stage of grief: acceptance. It was Thanksgiving, after all, and I had to figure out how to help my husband clean the house and host a holiday meal for nine people.
Lessons learned
From the context of acceptance, there are a few lessons that this journey has revealed so far, and I think they’re worth sharing.
1. At any time, any of us could experience a significant and sudden injury that not only prevents us from doing what we love most (trail running) but also a lot of other things in life. Remember to appreciate every mile you get to run—even on days when you aren’t that into it.
2. Get comfortable with allowing others to do things for you, knowing this might lead to feeling a little bit out of control. On Thanksgiving Day, the house got cleaned and a beautiful meal was served—and many of the details evolved differently than they might have otherwise, but it turned out not to matter. My husband did an amazing job with almost no help from me, and the guests loaded the dishwasher and divvied up leftovers while I remained a passive onlooker. Better to just sit back and enjoy how little I had to do than nitpick on how the tasks were being done.
3. For physical activity, make sure your healthcare provider understands your need to move your body. Learn what is permissible and do your best to incorporate whatever is allowed. Also recognize that being sedentary for a few weeks (or more) is not a death sentence, and it’s certainly not permanent. For some of us, myself included, the restorative time is overdue. Most endurance athletes exist in a chronically catabolic state, so an injury presents an opportunity to heal all your tissue—not just the injured part. After a period of doing nothing more active than couch-surfing, I was thrilled to roll out a yoga mat for some core work. Thanks to music and podcasts, stationary biking and pool running have become more-than-tolerable mainstays to salvage a bit of fitness. And yet, I yearn for the day when I can walk my dog again…
4. Injuries force us to slow down in many ways, giving us a chance to examine our normal workflows and eliminate any use of time that’s not a value-add. It takes longer to accomplish almost everything, even walking down the hall or going up the stairs, so efficiency becomes paramount. I’ve learned to group activities by location inside the house and avoid unnecessary changes of clothing because removing and reapplying the boot takes time.
5. Related to that, it’s worth considering a digital detox. If scrolling on Instagram or reviewing your friends’ Strava activities has been a habit, maybe it’s time to stop. It’s not exactly mood-boosting to see photos of your friends dancing over rocks and roots on two feet when you can’t. Reading about someone else’s splits in a track workout doesn’t bring me much joy when I can’t be there to join them.
6. Finally, remember that when it comes to attitude, we always have a choice. Coping with an injury requires a different type of mental fortitude than finishing a trail ultra, but finding ways to embrace the suck leads to less suffering. I was tempted to withdraw from the world and host daily pity parties for one, but that essentially equates to quitting. For me, focusing on the positives has meant being glad I don’t have a major goal race looming in the near future, being able to catch up on Netflix, and being thankful that I’m able to work from home, which makes everything easier.
My injury journey is far from over—I have a few more weeks in the boot, followed by a few weeks of rehab and PT before I even think about running. But I’m learning to be patient because the human body has incredible regenerative abilities when given enough time. Time is moving pretty slowly right now, but each passing day is one step closer to being back on the trail.
Editor’s Note: To read more articles and gear review by Sarah Barber, visit this link.
