I've got a bit of a cankle.

One of my feets needs to go on a diet.









So, I'm a crappy runner and need to stop sucking at things. Yesterday I'm running in the park, and I come around this corner at high speeds because it's my favorite part of the trail and it comes just after my least favorite part of the trail, and also because it means I'm halfway home. So I'm gunning it around this corner and I roll my ankle on a rock.



It hurts for a second and I say a few swears, but I'm really far from home and sweaty and it's cold out, and after I walk on it a few minutes, it seems fine and I'm able to run home on it. It's a little swollen by the time I get home, but I have things to do. I figure my boots will help support it for the day by, I don't know, crushing it from all sides, or something.



So I go and meet Joel at school and we have a study date with some of his med-buddies, and after a few hours I realize that no blood is getting to my one foot. So we're in there studying and I've got my one boot unzipped all the way down, looking like a tool.

Finally, I leave to go home, and as I come out of the building I see the bus. All this sitting and not moving has stiffened my ankle up so that I can hardly put weight on it, but the buses only run every half hour on Saturdays, and it's cold. So I gimp-run until I get close enough to see that it isn't my bus at all.

I go run some errands because we haven't got any food in the house, and by the time I get home I'm hobbling under the weight of my backpack, my laptop, my groceries, and my ridiculously oversized purse. I finally get around to stripping off my boots, and my ankle is swollen to thrice it's natural size.



The bruising is already halfway to awesome.