As I sat on the dusty log on the side of the trail, fists clenched on my calf and teeth gritted from the throbbing pain of my left ankle, I heard my uncle’s voice from the night before, “You should really invest in hiking gear.” At 24 years old, I still do not heed the advice of my elders. I am terribly obstinate. But more so, terribly young and therefore impervious to caution. I acknowledged my uncle’s words with a glance over my shoulder as I walked out the front door of my grandparents house–not even giving them a full moment’s pause to register.

 

In a lot of ways, I am still a teenager.

 

This was a teenager moment.

 

The Invincible Idealism. The To-Hell-With-Safety attitude. The Do-First-Think-After protocol.

 

That is how I found myself nursing a sprained ankle on a rocky hillside with nothing but a half empty water bottle in my backpack. A combination of luck and youth has been enough to keep me unscathed through most of my risky escapades. But the moment I heard my ankle crack as it rolled under the full weight of my body, I realized the full extent of my actions–running full speed on a decline on loose rocks and dirt in Nike Free Runs–revealed that I was far worse than a teenager. I was a stupid teenager.

 

After ten minutes to allow the initial shock of the pain to subside, I pulled myself up and limped the rest of the 1 mile down to the bottom of the trail. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t hope that the pain and swelling would go away and that I’d be left with a sore ankle. For a couple hours it didn’t seem like a big deal. I went to my grandparent’s house. I helped my grandma clean by sweeping and mopping the floors. By 3:30 PM, however, the pain that had slowly dulled in the early afternoon was back and I couldn’t walk without limping.

 

When I got home at 4:30 PM and finally took off my shoes and socks, my ankle was an unnatural blue and purple.

 

To say I was not stoked would be an understatement. I have a half marathon in 3 months that requires me to train. I have a job that requires me to be constantly on my feet for many hours. I have a goal to do a sunrise hike each month that I would like to accomplish.

 

No. I am not stoked at all.

 

The only silver lining I can see to getting an ankle sprain is that I really don’t have an excuse not to practice my writing this month. If I am going to be benched for the next few weeks, may it be with a laptop/journal in hand!

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “A 24 Year Old Teenager In Need Of Hiking Shoes

  1. I had my share of bad falls the past year…and in 2013. Take it as a sign to relax/do less, I guess. Or, as you said, focus on your writing if you haven’t til now. I was not in much of a mood or able to do much after my last bad fall. I was restless, frustrated, mad at myself… I was helpless and distrustful of nearly everyone if not everyone. I felt like an injure animal in the wild that just needed to wander off into the dark til some predator got me.

    Like

    1. Thanks for the comment! I do hope you’re doing better. And I am definitely going to try to take it easy. It’s a very important part of proper healing!

      Like

      1. I am functional but not 100 percent recovered. And, after one fall, I had another with a nephew which seems to have impaired my vision.

        Don’t look at it as taking it easy if you are the fiery, restless, project-seeking type (like me). You and I just need(ed) to look at time differently and what we CAN do when we can’t do what we might rather do. Even if rest is important to healing, I don’t like being stuck in front of a TV or PC. I worry people will think me lazy. And, I might develop a bad habit/addiction.

        I did use some down time to focus more on photography and, gradually, got back into writing, occasionally playing a PC/video game I could manage with one arm weighted down by a heavy cast (which I had to keep above a certain level and dry for a few weeks.

        Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s