... is usually fairly close to my body. Yes, today while wandering the streets of Virginia Beach, I stepped on a bit of uneven pavement, my ankles were caught by surprise, and down I went. After a little twist of the currently bad ankle, a scrape of the knee, and a questionable thump-scrape on my second toe, I was up and off to the hotel for some Neosporin and a band-aid. Later I rinsed it in the ocean as part of my rehab, hopefully to prepare if for Sunday.
Why does this keep happening? My physical therapist would say it's because I have not been following the exercise therapy he prescribed. My psychic (if I had one) would say it's karma. My inner pessimist would say it's because my racing is just not to be. My family would say it's normal. Smart people would say I'm not taking care of my ankles properly.
As for me, I say it is what it is - a misstep and a splat. It happens sometimes physically, sometimes mentally, and sometimes emotionally. Sometimes I have to take a breather, sometimes I have to have some help, and sometimes I just get up and handle it all by myself. I try to learn from it and move on because there's always something ahead of me. And although I may limp a bit from time to time, I won't let a misstep and a splat keep me from where I want to go.
No comments:
Post a Comment