Inquiry Project Week #3

What This Injury Has Taught Me So Far

11 weeks.

That number felt heavy. 11 weeks since my last run. 11 weeks of trying to make sense of pain that didn’t follow a clean, linear story. 11 weeks of progress, setbacks, hope, confusion, and a lot of patience I didn’t know I had.

This past stretch has been a rollercoaster, not just physically, but mentally. I hit a milestone I never wanted to hit: double digits in weeks away from running. And at the same time, I finally started getting some clearer answers.

The Update: What We Know Now

A couple of weeks ago, I got my MRI results back. The initial read showed no active stress fracture, which was both relieving and confusing. If there wasn’t a stress fracture, why was I still in pain?

My medical team felt the same uncertainty. The imaging didn’t fully explain what I was feeling. And then things flared again.

I had some pretty severe pain spikes with cross-training — enough that I had to take a full week off. That week felt like a massive step backwards. After being off running for so long, even cross-training had become my anchor. Letting that go, even temporarily, was really hard.

When I met with my sports doctor again, we re-looked at the MRI more closely. This time, we noticed fluid buildup around the pes anserine bursa, consistent with pes anserine bursitis. An ultrasound confirmed thickening in that area.

But that still didn’t fully explain the initial injury.

So I was referred to another sports medicine doctor for a second look. After reviewing everything his assessment was that I most likely had a cortical early-stage stress reaction that was on its way to becoming a stress fracture. These don’t always show up clearly on imaging, and may have healed by the time I got my imaging. He also mentioned the possibility of a periosteal reaction without marrow edema, which can be painful but subtle or invisible on scans.

The good news: There is no current stress fracture on MRI.

The honest reality: That doesn’t exclude that there may have been one earlier in the process.

So what likely happened? I didn’t just have one injury. I had two.

The initial bone stress injury required crutches and significant offloading. That prolonged crutch position and unloading likely triggered the secondary issue, pes anserine bursitis. In trying to protect the bone, I irritated the soft tissue. It’s been a complicated chain reaction.

For more context, check out this video below which does a great job explaining what Pes Anserine Bursitis is:

Where Things Stand Now

As of this week, I’m starting a structured loading plan with my new sports doc. We’re building a clear rehab progression, and from the sounds of it, a small run–walk protocol could be back on the table in about four weeks, cautiously and gradually.

The bursitis should hopefully settle within six to eight weeks as we progressively reload it. For the first time in a while, the plan feels grounded.

The Challenges

This season has stretched me in ways I didn’t expect.

1. The mental weight of uncertainty.

Not having a clean diagnosis for weeks was exhausting. Pain without clarity can mess with your head.

2. The flares.

Every time things seemed to calm down, a flare would spike and shake my confidence. Especially when cross-training, the one thing I felt like I still had, triggered pain.

3. Taking a week off everything.

That week off cross-training felt like starting over. It challenged my identity and my coping strategies.

4. The patience required.

Ten weeks without running forces you to sit with yourself in a different way.

Lessons I’m Learning

I’m still in it, but here’s what this stretch has taught me so far:

1. Imaging is helpful, but it’s not the whole story.

Scans don’t always capture early bone stress reactions. Clinical context matters.

2. Offloading has consequences too.

Protecting one structure can overload another. Rehab isn’t just about rest, it’s about smart, progressive loading.

3. Healing isn’t linear.

Flares don’t always mean failure. Sometimes they’re information.

4. Second opinions can be valuable.

Not because someone was “wrong,” but because complex injuries benefit from multiple lenses.

5. My identity is bigger than running.

This one is still a work in progress. But ten weeks has forced me to widen my perspective.

6. Progress can be quiet.

Sometimes progress looks like better understanding, not faster pace.

Video Reflection: The first 10 Weeks of Rehab

I’ve included a video below that summarizes the first ten weeks. The ER visits, the crutches, the imaging, the cross-training attempts, the flares, and the mindset shifts along the way.

This chapter has been humbling. But it’s also so important.

For now, the focus is simple:

• Load gradually.
• Respect the process.
• Build back stronger, not just physically, but mentally.

And hopefully, in a few weeks, take those first careful run–walk steps back.