When will I return to Pride Rock? –

“I can’t wait to be King.”

Do you remember that song from The Lion King?

Back in the day, I watched that movie at least three times a week with my younger brother, and that song just represented change—hopefulness, foresight, knowledge—to know that one day I’ll be number one.

“I can’t wait to run again.”

As I was thinking about that title, that song from The Lion King popped in my head. There are so many thoughts I could go with—left, right, going straight, what may have you. But my main focus is my desire to be king of the treadmill, king of the pavement. In my mind, that’s what I was when I would run.

I loved running. I loved running on the treadmill. I loved running outside even more. There are so many benefits to it—fresh air in my lungs, being able to push my body beyond what I thought it was capable of.

And to have all of that stripped away in the humbling.

The Early Grind

From 2014-2016

I was really strict with my workout regimen, diet, and running.

I started off on the treadmill, getting a mile in about 25 minutes—a light jog. At that time, I was over 400 pounds, and I just had a desire to get on the treadmill. I don’t remember exactly what sparked my interest in running—maybe a news clip or a video—but I do know it was one thing that could be done inside or outside the gym more than any other exercise.

Running. Jogging. Whatever you want to call it.

It’s an accelerated walk, to say the least.

I remember having foot issues back then, which were attributed to my weight. But week after week, I improved my time. I tested myself constantly—distance, markers, time. I pushed myself.

Eventually, I got my mile time under 10 minutes, and I was so happy. I felt like a king in my own eyes, considering where I came from in my fitness journey.

When Running Left Me

Last year, 2025, I didn’t run as much.

In 2024, I didn’t run at all.

In 2023, I did a decent amount of jogging and running—but that was by choice.

In 2024, it was by injury.

I developed plantar fasciitis in my right foot, particularly my right heel. It was very, very uncomfortable and discouraging. I could no longer run, and I couldn’t even walk long distances on the treadmill.

How I Walk on a Treadmill to Heal Plantar Fasciitis
https://youtu.be/6arws38P7xA

When I tried, my heel would become inflamed later that day or the next.

I was blessed with some Hoka shoes. They felt like walking on marshmallows—soft, detached, and absorbing. After a few months, the plantar fasciitis went away.

There was more therapy involved: using a tennis ball, rubbing my foot with a frozen water bottle, massaging, soaking—really honing in on my feet.

Get Instant Relief from Plantar Fasciitis Pain with a Tennis Ball
https://youtube.com/shorts/jinhDkGOi-o?feature=share

Finding New Ways to Move

In the meantime, my cardio came from the stationary bike, the recumbent bike, the elliptical, and the stair climber.

Surprisingly, the stair climber helped heal my foot as well.

Toward the end of 2024, leading into 2025, I felt hopeful again. My goal was simple: I wanted to run again. Two miles. Three miles. I missed how it activated my entire body.

But in 2025, as my right foot healed, the pain shifted to my left foot. I understood why—I was compensating.

Learning how to work out with an injury has its own challenges. Those challenges lead to revelations. You learn more about your body—the human body overall.

The Day Everything Changed Again

One morning in 2025, I was walking on the treadmill at an incline—about 4.0 incline and 4.0 speed. I felt good. My left foot had some pain, but I assumed it was just the first few minutes of discomfort.

Usually, the first four minutes are the roughest. Then the body acclimates.

I got excited. I thought, Let’s try to run.

I started jogging in my Hokas, which have a lot of bounce. My left ankle felt like it needed to pop—like cracking your knuckles.

So I pushed intentionally from my toes, trying to force a pop.

That was a mistake.

Two hours later, I was in the worst foot pain I’ve ever experienced. Walking to a breakfast restaurant felt impossible. I couldn’t enjoy my meal. Getting out of the car and climbing steps was brutal.

The next 48 hours were pure pain.

I got down on myself. I was so close to healing, and I felt like I messed it up by forcing something that didn’t need to happen.

Living With the Consequences

Since then, I’ve been dealing with plantar fasciitis in my left foot and Achilles discomfort.

When I stand up after sitting, there’s pain. It takes two to three minutes of walking before the limp eases.

This journey has been about learning my body and becoming stronger.

In 2025, I focused on strengthening my calves, shins, hamstrings, glutes, and hip flexors. I’ve learned how much they affect foot and ankle pain.

I’m still learning about the foot complex—the muscles, tendons, and stability involved.

Touching What Needs Healing

This morning, after praying, reading my Bible, and drinking coffee, I felt better overall.

I rode my stationary bike for 10 minutes. My legs felt good—especially my left leg.

Afterward, I looked at my treadmill and thought, I can’t wait to run again.

Before the bike, I had taken a shower. While drying off, I scrubbed my feet and applied Vaseline. Sitting down to put my socks on, I began rubbing my feet.

And I realized something:

I hadn’t taken time to touch myself.

Pause.

I hadn’t taken time to heal myself through simple touch—foot massages, rubbing, care.

After that, my feet felt better.

Lessons That Transfer to Life

There’s nothing like feeling encouraged after injury. But injuries teach lessons.

If I can’t run, does that mean I shouldn’t move at all?

No.

I have to be smarter. Smarter about recovery. Smarter about consistency.

Shoes wear out like tires. Bodies compensate. Discomfort teaches.

The lesson is simple but hard:

Do the right thing—and do it consistently.

Even when it’s uncomfortable.

Even when it’s unfamiliar.

That lesson transfers to every area of life.

When I go against the grain, I set myself back.

But when I stay consistent—when I take care of myself the right way—I will heal.

I will run again.

And one day, I’ll return to Pride Rock.