Ankles AWAY!!

It was a dark and stormy night.

Actually, it wasn’t. I just like typing that.

It was a day like any other day. I had sat in deep thought about stuff, gone to swim practice, gotten stressed out in chemistry and, yes, sprained my ankle. Again.

That is the third time in the past two months, I think. I mean, I’ve always had weak ankles. They were always getting strained in ballet and gymnastics. One day when I was seven or eight I was running around my house with a friend and that was the first of many ankle sprains to come.

Today’s seemed worse than most, though.

I have just started my own little triathlon training. I’ve never competed in anything of the sort, but someday I would like to. So I had decided to mix my normal swim practices with a beginner’s running routine I read about in Fitness magazine, and biking once a week, each week adding a mile.

Then tragedy struck.

I was playing with my dog and her three squeaky stuffed animals. I was going to quickly get off of my hands and knees, dart around her, and grab the duck she wasn’t watching. But when I stepped with my left leg to get up, the ball of my foot rolled in and my heel was thrust forward.

In excruciating pain, I fell with it, rolling over and grabbing it. But what hurt more was my running. This would put a stop to it for at least two weeks. I wasn’t ever very good at running, but I loved it and wanted desperately to get better. But the state of my ankle put my dream out of reach for a third time since the end of July. I was devastated.

My mom had fixed me on the couch with my leg up and icepack tied around my swelling ankle. I was sitting there half bored to , half too depressed to do anything about it, my dad came in.

Naively I said to him, “I don’t care. If it feels any better tomorrow then I’m going running.”

“No you’re not. You’ll just injure it more and then it’ll never heal.” Dad replied sternly.

I huffed, quickly admitting defeat. I knew it was true.

“Just look at all the things you can still do.” Mom spoke up. “You can still swim, do pilates and do some light yoga.”

It wasn’t enough for me. I wanted more. But I didn’t say anything. I nodded and turned away. All I can do now is focus on my swimming. I will swim harder than ever. After all, the only way to get fast in meets is to be fast in practice. And, well, it usually starts with practice.

That night before bed, thoughts drifted back to my ankle again. But this time, they were of thanks. I was thankful that it wasn’t broken. Thankful it wasn’t any other part of my leg seriously injured. Thankful it wasn’t anything in my arm. That would have put an end to my swimming then and there.

I’m still trying to get over my sprain, both physically and mentally. And I know everyone faces this sometime in their life, with something. It may not be sports-related, but it is crushing, and nobody wants to live like that. So, put it out of your mind and think about all the good things that happen to you, or all the bad or worse things that didn’t happen to you. It may not ease the pain entirely, but it certainly changes your mindset, making it, at least, a little easier.

Some skydiver pro-person who was in the army once said: "It's not a disability, it's an ability. Work with what you've got."

~Jessica