So, Chipson challenged me to a wrestling match last Friday. Not being one to deny a challenge, I gave her my best shot....and ended up with a broken foot.
There I was, running all around the house with the dog always close behind. At one point, I was at the front of the couch, while she was at the back. She had been chasing me round and round, but was growing bored of the game. To spice things up, I slowly made my way to side of the couch to lure her to chase me again. As soon as she started moving, I made my move and hurdled the couch on one miraculous display of athleticism....almost. My left foot clipped the backrest on the couch, and my controlled bound turned into an awkward fall. Seeing my impending doom in front of me (our hutch that sits several feet behind our couch was threatening to disfigure my face), I made a split-second decision to sacrifice my right foot.
I didn't hear the classic "pop" that most broken bones make, but I definitely knew something wasn't quite right. So I rubbed some dirt on it, walked it off, and coach put me back in. Ok, not really. As soon as Jenny was done drying my tears, I put some ice on it, and went to bed. I spent a few days limping on it before we noticed that there was some meaningful bruising going on in the area I had hurt. Sure enough, after seeing the doctor today and getting x-rayed, I have my first broken foot! My fifth metatarsal has a well-defined crack in it, but there is apparently not much we can do about it except wait it out.
Chipson: 1, Morgan :0
(Not my foot)