I thought I had a stress fracture, but it was soft tissue damage. I bought myself some new shoes. Minimalist shoes are probably not the best for me at this age and weight.

We came down to Ohio, and I wore these new, supportive shoes, and I didn’t run, but I walked on a trail in the Cuyahoga National Park, and felt invigorated. I thought about when I would run again. I thought about running goals.

And I somehow sprained my ankle on nearly flat ground. It audibly popped. I am now this age, and this weight, and I can barely get myself up the stairs in our Airbnb. I can’t sleep from the pain. I am angry and disappointed and catastrophizing about how to drive, and work, and just be a person, when I can barely ambulate.

I still did my yoga today. If we’re splitting hairs, it wasn’t necessary yoga, but a meditation from the yoga instructor. I was on my mat, with my leg elevated, on the deck of the Airbnb, not moving, but breathing. It was a meditation for anxiety. It helped. Honestly, so did hearing someone drive by blasting DMX.

Our kids did the thing that seems to happen every spring, and opened the dining room windows from the bottom, not from the top, where the screens are. Three cats got out last night. Mark hit the alley and took off.

I wonder if there’s a meditation for that.