It’s my first return trip to New Orleans since the running accident that caused my Achilles Tendon to rupture.
My daughter lives in the greater New Orleans area, and I found myself standing on her porch debating if I should go to the spot where my right foot ‘found’ a hole in the street while on a 7-mile training run that was the catalyst of my current Achilles tendon repair/recovery odyssey.
Quick review… on Sunday, October 27, 2024… and on a training run route that I’ve traversed dozens of times, the rear part of my right foot hit a hole that I did not see. This hyperextension of my right ankle resulted in my Achilles tendon rupturing. I immediately stumbled over to the left side of the road, made it to a fenced-off construction site, and while fighting through immense pain and holding on with a ‘death grip’ to the construction fence, I called my wife to please pick me up. (If you want any more of the history of my issue, please read the earlier BLOG posts on this site.)
Today, February 23, 2025, marks 17 weeks since the incident, and I was debating whether or not to visit the ‘scene of the crime’… the exact location where it happened. Basically, without the immediate injury pain clouding my outlook/vision, I wanted to see with clear eyes the ‘spot’… but I was fearful just how I would feel visiting the spot.
After repeating my ‘how it happened’ story over and over again to those both asking and not asking to hear ‘all about it’, I thought the hole would be the size of a small automobile. (Afterall, how could have have not been able to avoid it?)
“Certainly, they would have filled this hole by now… wouldn’t they?” I thought to myself. I quickly came to the conclusion that this being the greater NOLA area… so nope! (Sorry if you’re from NOLA… But IYKYN!)
My son-in-law agreed to let me borrow his car and I drove the 2 miles to the site.
While I knew the approximate location, I didn’t remember the exact location. I knew the general area… in Metairie… just past the golf course on the left… before a construction fence also on the left (assuming the construction fence was still there.)
I followed the route I was running that fateful morning 17 weeks ago to that point where I thought I was close.
I drove slower.
I noticed my heart beating a little faster.
Wait… could that be it?
Stop… I get out and take a closer look.
Yes. Here… this MUST be the spot.
I recognized many of the landmarks… the approximate location… the left side construction fence… a hole in the street.
This was the spot.
Everything exactly how I remembered it… with the exception of the SIZE of the hole.
I was struck by the physical characteristics of this hole. In reality this hole was neither wide nor deep. It just so happened to be the ‘right size’ for my errant foot to fit.
What are the odds? (Time to buy a lottery ticket.)
My feelings when I saw the spot? I’m not one to generally speak about feelings in a public setting… but I’ll make an exception in this case.
I was awe struck how something so physically small and seemingly so insignificant as the actual hole could have such a profound effect on a person’s life, and how this change could be made in such an immediate and dramatic fashion.
So very small and insignificant yet so profound.
Sigh…
Let the recovery continue…
Let’s talk! Feel free to email at: RupturedRunner@gmail.com.
Ruptured Runner 
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