Wednesday, August 8, 2012

Pushing Back the Dumb

Boot : size SM. Perfect accessory to any Summer attire
Chair : Vintage Thomas the Tank.
Extra Artwork on Seat: Crayola "washable" Marker, by the Littlest

While doing a lot of extra sitting, over the past few weeks. I have had plenty of time to contemplate just how danged Smart I was being, regarding this injury. Each day that passed, without me trying to go for a run, walk or even firmly planting my foot on the stairs, gave me a little extra confidence.

I am a Smart Runner!
Others reinforced this newfound revelation. DailyMile comments ranged from "So proud of you for taking it slow!" to the ever-pleasant "You're an Inspiration!" Even my mom, who feels I am never cautious enough, was totally impressed. Sure, I may've made some not-so-smart decisions to get myself into this situation, but I was more than making up for it with my enviable patience and "smartness".

I did have to keep pushing back that one, teensy nagging thought : Pssst! Moron! The only reason you're not sneaking out to run is because it feels like someone is stabbing your anklebone every time you even think of putting weight on it!

I woke up, Friday morning, and didn't have that jolt of agony I'd grown so accustomed to when I stepped out of bed. This was new, encouraging and exciting! After gingerly walking around a bit, sans boot, I determined this really was a "better" feeling ankle day. I decided to continue to take it easy, wean myself off the boot somewhat, and see how things went. The plan was to definitely maybe take a short, slow walk on Monday.

Some troublesome kids and/or a lazy Pool Cleaner Guy made this plan fall into place. So, I, the Smart (Injured) Runner, set out for a Smart Walk. I'd decided to walk a mile or less, depending on how the ankle felt. There was some achiness for about 1 minute. Then it was gone. The sun shone a little brighter, the gnats swarming around my face buzzed a little quieter and my feet were SO happy!

Full disclosure: This double-rainbow shot was captured in my neighborhood...but not during my walk. That'd be cool, though, right?!

My back was almost getting SORE from all the self-patting I was giving it. "Look at you and all your Smart-ness...walking!" "You haven't even tried to run one. single. day, whilst injured." "You are soooo Smart!"

And then it happened. The Dumb started creeping in. I blame my happy feet. They can't help it, really, they're SO far away from my brain. The feet-to-brain communication is probably very fuzzy and, at times, totally non-existent.

"Hey! We should try to run! No, no...just a little, teeny bit!"

"Ok. You know what? If we're going to run, a little, it should be a sprint." "You LOVE to sprint, remember?!"

"Ok. Ok. I see that you're still making us walk. Walking's cool, and all, but how about we just Run Home. That's a simple enough goal : Run Home!" "It'll be rad!!"

And so on...

Turns out, all this time, I wasn't being smart. The Dumb just hadn't had an opportunity to work it's magic.

This long, drawn-out story has a happy ending, though. I pushed back The Dumb, long enough to finish that walk, get myself safely inside and elevate those overly-happy feet. Granted, it ended up being 1.28 miles, rather than "maybe 1 mile", but no one...ever...has accused me of being The Smartest.

Just Smart Enough is okay with me, though.

When does your Dumb creep in?

Ever seen a double rainbow?



  1. Yours creeps? Mine has been in charge so long it stomps and swaggers...

    Though it's had some setbacks lately. Here's hoping for Adequate Patience to avoid more time as patients. :)

    1. You can't be *that* dumb if you're able conjure up patients/patience cleverness. There's hope for us, yet!

  2. Heard today from my dear, sweet son, "Mom, you really need a bigger brain."

    1. You should let him know about genetics. Maybe he'll be more hesitant to point out your (totally made-up) flaws.