Five years ago, while stretching to paint just a little bit more of our kitchen, I did something to my Achilles tendon in my right foot. It hurt, but if I wore shoes I could walk. For months I nursed it along with patience and no exercise.
This summer, while pushing our pop up camper out through our backyard fence gate I did something to it again. But like before, I could walk, and time once again healed the wound.
Yesterday, for reasons unknown, as the day progressed my heal hurt more and more... even with shoes on. By the end of the night I was lame, and this morning despite sleeping with an ice bag, it's the same.
Busted with a yard full of leaves and pine needles. There has to be a lesson here somewhere. And I think I am in for a whole lot of down time to contemplate it.
My baby turns 18 tomorrow.