Tuesday, August 07, 2012
The day after the Boilermaker I was on my way to the gym when I rolled my ankle. I rolled it good, and realized that the gym-- or even walking as far as the gym-- was going to be out of the question. I iced it that night, and bought an ace bandage, but the pain and swelling didn't go away so yesterday I went to the sports doc. Sure enough, I'd fractured my fibula. Of course the fracture is the least of it-- the torque generated by my acrobatics has really done in the soft tissues, and that will be where the hard work comes in. For now I have three weeks of orthopedic boot to enjoy. Since it is my right leg, I have to take it off to drive, then put it back on when I arrive, a tedious process. Still, it's an interesting experience- this is more or less the broken leg that one hears about people playing through, and although I wouldn't care to try it, I think with the right taping and a hit of cortisone or something I can imagine running on it. The really vexing part is that I don't have a good story about it. I hate being hurt, but if I can claim to have done it while rescuing my family from a sinking battleship I'd feel better about it.
// posted by Bill @ 1:12 PM 
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Commiserations. I rolled my ankle over Christmas, and on top of tendonitis in my achilles from the year before, have only been able to train in the last 3 months - and my ankle (the left) is still misshapen and hurts when I stretch. I can only imagine what it would have been like if I'd actually broken something.
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