Dear People Who See Me in Person,
Though there will be only a handful of you over the next couple of weeks, let me answer the inevitable questions now:
- Yes, I broke my ankle.
- No, it’s not a good story.
I wish I could say I broke it doing something exciting, like glacier hiking in Iceland, cliff diving in Bermuda or rappelling off the Empire State Building (if that could even be a thing).
But no.
I tripped on some uneven pavement and rolled my ankle.
I feel pretty, oh so pretty.
The ligament actually broke the tip off my fibula.
I broke the piggie who ate roast beef a couple of weeks ago. Same foot. My first two broken bones.
I guess if I’m going to damage myself, during a pandemic is as good a time as any. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.
This splint is my sexy new accessory for the next few weeks.
Dr. Peter said the bone will heal in about a month. I asked how long I should try to stay off my foot. He said:
Let pain be your guide.
Isn’t that true for so many things?
Anyway, I’ll be fine.
And also, it’s good to see you.
Beth
Observe and report 
Ouch. I feel for you in more than one way — the pain, yes, and injuring yourself in an inglorious way. My most serious injury wasn’t running trails. It was jumping over a little string that “roped” off an area with a Keep of the Grass sign.
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Haha! Yes! Ridiculous.
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