injury

I busted my ankle on Monday. It's a stupid story, really. I was walking and my foot got caught in an insignificant groove in the sidewalk and my left foot turned in way too hard. Before I knew it, I was struggling standing. I hopped over to my car, took off my shoe and could see my ankle swelling. From there, I drove to my sister's house to ice my ankle, kept it elevated and fell asleep.

So I'm in Santa Barbara right now on a writing retreat, which also makes it an opportune time for my ankle to recover while getting some much needed writing done. It's going alright, but it's frustrating because I like being 100% mobile. I like being able to work out and am bummed that I don't get to run along the beach like I normally do when I visit SB. At the same time, the silly person in me says, "everything happens for a reason." Given this cliche, I'm going to say that this silly busted ankle is probably related to me having silly body issues and my constant need to come to positive terms with my body.

Having this still swollen and now bruised ankle reminds me that I need to be happy that I have good health. Busted ankle aside, I can walk, run, talk, and even stop and smell the roses - simple luxuries that I (we) take for granted. While I'm anxious to go back to the studio and work out (and that's the truth and not my sarcasm speaking), I'm also learning about being patient with my body and the importance of recovery. I think injury is lady fate's way of reminding us of these things. I write this because although silly injuries are rare for me, they usually occur when I need these reminders.

So lesson learned....