In Which I Moan About My Injury

I sprained my ankle.

You’d think would be ’nuff said, but I’m feeling sorry for myself, so I’m going to whine and complain about it here.
image21[photo of Sam’s 2008 half marathon]

So you know I have my “big race” coming up.  (No, I’m not running a Marathon– it’s just a 10K.)  It’s the BolderBoulder, which is a really fun [huge] race in my hometown, and which has held some sort of mythic status in my head since I was small because it has this killer hill at the end.

Because I was so mean last year Because we had so much going on last spring, I wouldn’t let Sam register for this 10K.  It was the first year since we’ve moved here that he didn’t do it, and because of that little fact, he didn’t have a qualifying time to use to register for this year.  Which meant that because my friend Heidi signed us up together a good month before he got around to registering, my start time is 13 minutes before his.  Which will darn-well be the only time in my life that I will have even a lick of a chance to finish a race before him.  Or even to be passed by him.


When we were first married and I jogged some with my friend Dora, he wouldn’t even call what I did running– let alone run with me.  He’d mumble something about his “pace” (as if I knew what that meant) and say it was just too hard blah blah blah…  Now I realize that he’s pretty fast (for an amateur old dude) and no wonder he didn’t want to run with me.  Anyhow, now I’ve spent days calculating how close I can get to the finish before he passes me (if I don’t resort to locking him in the port-a-potty at mile 1.)

And then two weeks ago, I had to go off the curb to avoid this dog that was tearing at his leash to sink his teeth into my calf, and I sprained my ankle.  Only my back was so bad that I didn’t really notice it until a week later when I tied my shoe on and thought, “Why is my ankle swollen?”  and “Gee, it really hurts!”  And, “Oh no, what about my race?”


image22 [doesn’t he look great? that was at least at mile 8 or 9]

I have been incredibly patient the typical person I see in the office, wondering why the dang thing won’t get better.  My mom said she hoped I was keeping it elevated.  And I do, for at least ten minutes a day.  But who are we kidding?  Somewhere, deep inside, I still want to be SuperWoman.  Or ElastiGirl, at least.  I want my body to heal itself even when I refuse to do what I need to.

So next Monday, look for me.  I’ll be the old woman hobbling up the killer hill at the end of the BolderBoulder with her sprained ankle and a huge grin on her face.  And then when I start to whine about my ankle pain, just nod your head and pass me the cheese.


5 thoughts on “In Which I Moan About My Injury

  1. You are going to rock it, as you always do. And you know you won’t have to lock Sam in a portapotty because he will go there voluntarily at least twice. He doesn’t stand a chance at catching you. Run, Annie, run! Woot! Woot!

  2. Love these pictures. Don’t worry both you and sam will do fine…after all its just a race. Hope your ankle feels better. I want to do lots of things my body won’t let me do so I know how you feel.

  3. i frequently get sprained ankle due to heavy biking and long of hours of running. i usually put a cold compress to reduce swelling. .;:;.

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