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?