identity crisis

I’m having an identity crisis.

After messing up my ankle a couple months ago, I ended up at the physio.  (Nine weeks out and I still couldn’t turn.)  She’s awful lovely but my feet make her nervous.  Apparently most of you guys out there don’t point your toes all the time.  Since even at rest, my feet are pointed and arched they’re stretching my ligaments all the time.  Blah, blah, blah & a  lifetime of sprained ankles is explained.

So she’s started me on this exercise of shortening/strengthening the ligament.  That’s all ok.  And honestly it’s kicking my lingering ankle pain.  She also wants to teach me to flex my feet.  I accidently started on this path when I confessed that for a week or so I couldn’t walk at all when I woke up.  A little testing and we discovered that positions I was sleeping in, to combat the hurt ankle, involve my feet fiercely pointed in my sleep.  Turns out I’m pushing some bone out all the time.

But here’s the thing, with all this physio work, I’m walking differently.  More flatly, more evenly, more clunky.  And I feel as if I’ve just given up the last graceful thing about me.  The only upshot is that she loved my sneakers.  But for the sake of a little elegance  I’m going to have to trade them in for a taffeta gown or something..

sneaks

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