Cursed are those who count their blessings

Just yesterday, as I walked the 2 miles home from the bank because I didn’t have enough money on me for a bus ride (ironic?–that’s only the beginning), I thought about how blessed I am to have two healthy strong legs. I mentally took a moment to count my blessings about being able to walk, use my arms, swing my legs and pick up my feet.

And I swear to you that now, fewer than 24 hours later, I am lying on the new orange couch, immobilized because of a sprained ankle. I can’t run. I can’t even think about going to my yoga class tonight. And I can barely walk (sweet Whit has piggy-backed me to the restaurant next door for dinner last night and allowed himself to be my crutch up and down stairs).

I had to cancel a few appointments this afternoon. And I had to sit while teaching, a sign to my students that they apparently should stand up, try the latest judo moves on each other, and talk louder because I am farther away from them at my desk.

Anyway, long story short. I sprained my ankle while trail running. On my first week of marathon training. I twisted it not once but three times before I could get off the trail and limp about two miles back home in dire pain.

I’m icing, compressing and elevating and hoping for the best. I should count my blessings that it’s not worse. But look where that got me last time.


  1. Brittany says:

    What is up with leg injuries? You are seriously the third with in our circle this month. Hope your foot gets better soon, but it looks like you are making great use of being cooped up!


  2. Summer says:

    You poor thing! Guess that’s what you get for counting your blessings. đŸ™‚ Get well soon!!


  3. deborah says:

    I was going to leave a comment about the shirt, but I have two people looking over my shoulder advising me not to, so I won’t say “why the jack’ass shirt?”


  4. Got the shirt at our recent girls clothing swap. Couldn’t resist it.


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