getting the boot

It was a lovely autumn day, sunny and warm, and I was at my morning soccer team with Fury.  In the first 15 minutes, I'd had a few break-aways and a few shots on goal [to no avail, sadly] when once again, I see the ball coming my way.  I sprint up the field full force and get my foot square on the ball to make another shot against their goal keeper.  Unfortunately, at the exact moment I made contact with the ball, the opposing defender, also coming full force towards me, planted her foot on the ball as well.  BAM!!!  The ball shot straight up into the sky as pain permeated my foot.  Ouch.

I tried to convince myself I wasn't hurt too bad and wanted to burn some extra calories, so I limped my way through another 5 or 10 minutes when I finally pulled myself out of the game.  Sitting on the sideline with the remaining ice from my morning's iced tea, Joann and I determined that I should get some x-rays.  Bleh.  Everyone knows how I feel about hospitals at this point (see Exhibit A).  My leaving the game put our team short players and Joann leaving also would mean we'd be playing down even more (and I just hurt my right foot, so driving myself was out of the question).  With my phone in the jeep, Joann texted Jon and James to hopefully help transport me.  Jon was doing volunteer work at the zoo and wouldn't be able to get out to Fairfax anytime soon and we never heard back from James, but we didn't want to leave our team in the lurch, so I sat through the second half of the game.  This worked out well actually because that freed up more people and Daz was able to follow us with my jeep.  

For once, the wait at urgent care was minimal and I was getting examined fairly quickly.  Initial results showed no sign of fracture, but a severe sprain, and I was not to walk for at least a couple weeks.  I planted myself on the couch for the rest of the weekend.  To make matters worse, this happened 6 days before Jon and I were set to leave for Dominican Republic for Cori and Marcello's wedding.  I will say this, however, about travelling with a boot:

• No waiting in the lines at airport security... anywhere!  
• First to board means first dibs at the overhead bins.
• No rushing to make your connection flight... instead, they will summons the people mover and transport you in a timely manner (even better that your destination flight knows you're en route and will wait for you)
• No standing in lines at customs!  Just like with airport security, they wheel you right through.

Nonetheless, having the boot is annoying.  It makes paradise a little less fun, and it makes an active person antsy to get moving again (though admittedly, there were times that I was grateful for having a decent excuse for sitting on the couch).  Driving was a pain and entirely unsafe.  Formal occasions were difficult, and of course I had several:  Joann's birthday at the oyster riot, holiday parties, Ingrid's birthday, and of course the wedding in the DR.  Yuck, yuck, yuck!

BUT.  This injury is temporary, despite my orthopedic surgeon threatening surgery if it does not heal soon, and I am looking forward to spring races and even my first triathlon in two years, this June in Williamsburg.  Guess I should be hitting the pool or the bike trainer, huh?!