I won’t be running 24 miles this week. Yes, you did hear me right. I injured myself. I wish I could say that I hurt myself doing something heroic, like rescuing another sailor lost at sea. Or possibly something daring or exciting that few of you would be brave enough to try. But it was something mundane that got me. I guess I was worried about the wrong things. Even if I put myself in a completely protective bubble, I would still risk tripping over my own two feet.
I was looking for my youngest daughter to tell her that supper was ready last night. I couldn’t find her anywhere. I quickly climbed two steps on her bunk bed ladder and only went down one rolling my ankle as I missed the last rung. My ankle is swollen and sore, but I think I should be back on my feet by next week. Maybe the end of this week if I’m really lucky.
I’ve heard that pride comes before a fall. I admit I am guilty! My kids are still limping around the house after the 5k. I limped around a day or two after the half marathon, but didn’t have to recover from the 5k or 10k. I am stronger than everyone in my house. I am a better runner. Aahhhhhhhh as I fall down the stairs and end up limping up and down them like everyone else. Oh damn the limits of being a mere mortal!
It could be worse. I found out this past weekend that my runner cousin injured his foot so bad that he can’t even walk on it for a month. He was one of the people that was instrumental in me starting this blog about running, even though I spend more time talking about the things that I am out running. Lol. It is hard to think about your run being over, but I feel good that with some rest I will be back on the road again soon.