For the past three days I have heard people tell me EVERYTHING about my ankle. Everyone thinks they know best. Granted, my mother usually does know best, and if I don’t listen to her I always hear, “I told you so!” Not the point though, everyone keeps telling me what I should be doing.
I’m an athlete, I know how to properly wrap it, I know to ice it, and I know to keep it elevated when possible. That being said, if you see me walking around, it’s not because I don’t know these things, it’s because the pain has decreased and I’m comfortable walking around on it. Obviously I’m not going to go out and run seven miles on it, but I’m fine with walking to the subway or around campus. If it hurt, I wouldn’t be doing it.
Yes, I know I need to rest it if I want to attempt the 10-Miler and I am, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit at home 24/7 with my foot propped up on pillows. It means I’ll do the minimum activities required to go through my day and rest it when it’s possible. I have people coming over to my apartment instead of going to their’s. I’ve done delivery instead of pick up or cooking. I’ve worn my supportive running shoes even though they’re not as fashionable as my flats.
Trust me guys, I know what I’m doing. It’s sweet that everyone cares about my recovery, but I don’t need to hear how I should be taking care of myself. I’ve got it under control. And that is my rant of the day.