It’s too bad that I severely sprained my ankle prior to the start of my blogging career.
I could have milked my injury to even more people.
But five months ago today–Christmas Eve–my ankle looked ridiculous as I recovered from a third degree ankle sprain from rekindling the NBA (not WNBA) dream on the basketball court with colleagues. For the record, I was on fire during the morning scrimmage just three days before the arrival of Jesus (or Jesus). Then, as I rose up from the top of the key to bury my 17th consecutive trifecta my dreams came crashing down on the large foot of UIC media relations correspondent Dan Yopchick, AKA, Yopper. I felt a few pops and just like that a softball appeared on my ankle.
But, I feel pretty good now as I’ve been running five days a week for about a month and half. It must have been bad because I can still feel the scar tissue when I run.
Tomorrow, Liam returns to the doctor for a little check-up. I’ve kindly requested that he not poop on the exam table.