I had a breakdown about my ankle yesterday.

Steve and I worked our first shift at Whitetail on Sunday. It rained almost the entire time, so I ended up only taking a couple of runs to kick off the new ski season. Still, it was an exciting day: I picked up my new DalBello boots, which will have a custom liner molded to the exact shape of my foot within a few weeks, and I was feeling pretty good about my chances of enjoying an awesome and healthy ski season. Spending the day clomping around in my old boots, a pair of 1996 Langes my doctor literally ordered me to replace, made my feet sore in the usual spots, but nothing out of the ordinary.

Then, I woke up yesterday morning in pain. Like, not “it hurts when I run a certain way uphill,” but “ouchouchouchouchouch!” I brought this up at physical therapy before my fourth iontophoresis treatment, and my therapist tried to mask what seemed to be intense concern, bringing me an ice pack and suggesting I take it easy for a few days — and that I skip activities that make the pain worse. Essentially, I needed to stop being an idiot and doing things that so obviously worked against my recovery.

I kept my emotions under wraps until the afternoon, when I had a minor breakdown when Steve asked how my day was going. I told him I was freaked out about my ankle, that I was envisioning having to skip a ski season, that I was frustrated because I just want to be able to do the stuff I enjoy without stuff hurting. Is that too much to ask? To help set the scene, imagine me delivering this speech broken up by sobs and apologies and sniffles, then punctuated by a big, fat, nose-blow.

I calmed myself down pretty quickly by reminding myself that I’ve coped with injuries before. I know what it’s like to feel like an injury will never get better. I also know that injuries do get better, especially when I really dedicate myself to my rehab exercises — and when I remind myself to be patient.

I need to be patient while giving my ankle some rest this week by heading back to the pool with a pull buoy. I need to be patient while waiting to get my new custom liners for my boots, and patient as I break them in (ouch), then as I give them a chance to work (hopefully, no more ouch. A girl can hope, right?). I need to be patient when the snow is good and I’m tempted to ski bumps til my quads are shaking, and to remind myself that this season might not be the best time to do that. My new mantra is a Rainer Maria Rilke quote:

“Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”

How does patience play into your training? And how do you maintain that sense of patience and peace when the going gets tough?