Ouch.

Remember how I told you all that I have no grace?

Yeah.

Well, this morning I went down to exercise with my husband. It turned out the routine was going to involve a bunch of up and down movements (like down into a sprawl and then up-up into the air!) These movements make me very ill, as I cannot even garden without getting motion sick. I wish I was exaggerating that last comment, but it's the honest truth. I get carsick in my own car when I am the driver.

Anyway, I shifted to the treadmill as soon as I realized this was a danger zone workout for me. Running, running is perfectly acceptable! Yes!

So, I geared up. Shoes on, Check. Music and headphones on/in, check. Treadmill on, check. I walked about two minutes, and then I thought "A tissue! I need a tissue! I forgot a tissue!" (Side note: I'm like an allergy commercial when I run. It's like my sinuses are competing with my feet for who has the fastest time.)

I stopped the treadmill. I unhooked myself from the safety shut-off. I turned. I stepped down...

And I have NO IDEA what happened. I don't know if I stepped on the side of my power stand (pull-up stand), or if there was something else on the floor, but my right ankle rolled while I was in mid-air as I came down with my full body weight and momentum. My ankle gave what seemed like a loud POP! I'm not sure if it was as audible as I felt it was, because my husband didn't say he heard it. I sure as heck felt it though.

I was lucky to not fall head first into the weight bench. I hit the floor and started howling. I actually couldn't even remember any curse words at that point, or I would have started an impressive exhibition of my extensive vocabulary guaranteed to get me thrown out of any bar. Have you ever been hurt so bad you couldn't actually remember how to cuss?

I cried. I hate that, but I'm a crier. Actually, the tears were warranted. I still hate that I cried, though.

With help, I made it out of the basement and began RICEing my foot (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation, and Advil... buy stock in Advil, I'm sure it's going up today.) I can't even paint, because I can't stand or sit at the table. Yes, there is a remote possibility that I may have broken something given the pop I heard/felt and the fact that the pain is centered on the actual bone and not the soft tissue, but I'm watching it. If it's not better in a day or two, I'll go see someone. I think it's just a bad sprain though.

I set myself up on the couch, and all I can do is draw. Fortunately, I discovered my pastels last night before all of this. I stopped using them just after high school 20+ years ago, and I have no idea. I LOVE these things! I decided to test them out doing a drawing of where I think all my spoons have gone. Spoons have to be my favorite utensil, and they simply vanish around here. I have double the amount of knives and forks, but almost NO spoons! What the heck?!

"Spoon Thief" 6x8 inches, pastel on professional pastel paper

I LOVE pastels! Why did I stop? I'm working on more today, with prompts from my facebook art page. A space octopus is on deck. Seems like a challenge! I imagine I'll be stuck like this for a few days at least. *grumble*

I want you all to know that while I would love to drown my hurt and sorrows in chocolate and wine over this, I haven't at all. Oh sure, you could say it's only because I can't get up and get them... but I prefer to think of it as impressive choice management on my part. *wink*