It all started nicely - a wind-free, warm late-summer evening, the empowerment that comes with moving beyond a 10-hour workday to motivate one's self to run, excellent company in the form of my boyfriend's very athletic 11-year-old daughter whose taste in running shoes can only be described as impeccable. I even had a great route idea for the recommended 2.5 miles (which was actually 3.13 miles).
The one thing that I did not consider was the extent to which Seattle streets and sidewalks are falling apart and how much worry an errant step can cause.
With most of the run behind us, we were picking up our pace a bit around where Raye turns into 8th. As we rounded that dark corner of sidewalk, my foot landed in an uneven pothole and rolled out and forward. I could feel a bunch of things stretching and clicking and snapping as I moved and screamed bloody murder. (Be proud, folks. I did not use a single word that would raise an eyebrow). Perrin, my running companion, asked me if we needed to stop, but after a few strides, the pain was bearable and we continued our run.
And now, this is what I have to live with:
Luckily, the pain has not really set in (yet). Riding my bike doesn't seem to be an issue, and walking feels just like it did before, but hurts a bit to go down stairs and flexing my foot also reminds me that, as stated, mistakes were made. Plus, it looks so ugly! I'll be interested to see how tomorrow's (Friday's) run goes with this new lump of glory. Until then, happy trails to all of you non-existent readers!
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