1) She was up for a late afternoon run yesterday even after I ditched her Saturday for a trip to the hospital.
2) She also agreed to try out the trails knowing there might be crunchy snow and ice.
3) She expressed concern without freaking out when I completely and totally slipped on the ice and wiped out.
4) She didn't laugh when I did it a SECOND time just a few minutes later.
5) She recommended, in all seriousness, sliding down the rest of the ice chute on my butt (and I really considered it).
6) She didn't caution me when I tried to run again, allowing me to test for damage to my ankle.
7) She didn't question it when I asked to walk again because I felt like my leg was broken.
8) She checked in on me today and with optimistic enthusiasm asked if I wanted to run 14 miles on Saturday. I love that because it makes me hopeful too!
Unfortunately, this is what my ankle looks like tonight - 24 hours later. I've got a baseball growing out the side of it. Steve's convinced me it's not broken, but says torn ligaments sometimes take longer to heal. So it's RICE for me. The bad luck spell needs to be broken. Someone send me some magic please!