Everybody falls sometimes.
I do more than others.
I'm constantly running in to stuff. Tripping. I'm a klutz.
But Saturday's 12 mile run turned ugly at mile 11 where, somehow, I fell and twisted my ankle. Luckily no one else was injured in my massive plummet to the ground.
The entire 10:30 pace group stopped to see if I was ok. [Thanks again guys for not leaving me in the dust.]
I got back on my feet, and Sara, Tomas, Carrie and Jen walked with me.
I was so touched that they would stop and walk back with me. When I said something along those lines, the response was 'We're tired and were looking for a reason to walk!'
After running 40+ miles last week, we're all exhausted.
As for the ankle, it's turning in to quite a sight to see of purple and gray bruising.
I'm resting, icing, compressing and soaking in epsom salts.
No running til at least Saturday I've decided.
The good news is, although it's a bit stiff, I've not lost range of motion or am I in pain.
I'm hoping in time the swelling will go down and I'll be back to normal.
In case anyone's counting, the marathon's in 13 days.
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