One step forward, n steps back

I was absolutely psyched to start my exercise routine again on Saturday after taking the week off.  I thought about going to my crossfit class, but I was a bit hung over and I wanted to savor my morning, and I didn't really want to shock my system quite that way.  So instead I went for a gentle jog and it felt great.  I loved it.

Saturday night, as we all know, I masqueraded as a European.

Sunday is my rest day, so I was out walking through a park when my foot started to hurt.  A lot.  When it hadn't gotten better by Wednesday, I decided a doctor was in order. 

I saw the doctor who was available and not my regular doctor.  She had no idea what was wrong and seemed very unfamiliar with sports injuries.  I wanted to rule out a stress fracture, and she was confident there was no bone breakage.  She said that it was soft tissue damage of some sort and prescribed a regiment of rest, no high heels, no motorcycle, and lots of ibuprofen.  Boooooring.

What she really couldn't tell me was how to a) reintroduce exercise into my life in a safe way and b) avoid exacerbating the injury.  So I called my coach.

"Carl, I've got this pain in my foot and it won't go away."
"Saturday night, were you out standing a bar in new high heels?"
"What?  Yes.  How'd you know?"
"Plantar Fasciitis.  Do the ibuprofen thing, but don't be afraid of the gym.  Come to CrossFit Saturday, it'll be good for you."

I won't lie, there was fist pumping.