My pledge to take a short break from lumbering was short-lived and unwise.
After my meaningless declaration to rest my foot in my last post, I proceeded to mow the grass of the vast (not really) estate of the Cul De Sac Shack, which is a 2-mile walk behind a mower. Probably not wise.
Then, later, I went to my appointment with the O.G. Mindbender and once again declared that I was going to rest for a few days and maybe get an x-ray.
However, as the dawn clouds of early Thursday morning burned off and revealed beautiful sunshine, I said fuck it, I’m going for a short hike; what’s the worse that could happen? I’ll even use trekking poles to help a bit.
Well, the worst that could happen is that about 1.5 miles into the lumber, my right foot was getting worse and worse, as was my frustration with myself, my never-ending issues with my feet, and my deep loathing for the aging process.
The last lumbering photo of the week; deer getting new coat.
I was literally limping through the woods, gritting my teeth, mumbling obscenities, and holding back the urge to smash my trekking poles against a tree in frustration as intense pain shot through the top of my foot.
Why didn’t I take my own gahdamn advice???
I made it back to the hand-me-down, new-to-me 2015 Ford Escape after 3 miles, drove home in frustrated silence, and immediately dunked my foot into a tub of ice.
After an hour or two of ice, Aleve, a hot shower, and brief rest, I was good enough to go for groceries and do my normal domestic duties, but it was clear that my foot was, and continues to be, fucked.
As I type this, I am on my third day of “rest,” but with no major improvements. I’ve still not consulted a doctor, but the interwebs say it’s probably not residual effects from the Dog Dirt Incident but could be a stress fracture or extensor tendinitis.
The interwebs also say that exercise like swimming or cycling can be great alternatives during the healing process. And since I don’t swim in public unless I’m inebriated in another country or have a chance to hurt myself on a boat ladder, I guess I’m going to ride my bike this week and see what happens.
The idea of sitting around the house now that spring has FINALLY arrived in mid-Michigan is NOT something I want to do much more of, and I can only photograph so many birds.
Sadly, the grass won’t stop growing because my foot is hurt, so I do have at least 2-miles to stumble in the coming days. Shit.
Later.