That’s right, I’m a gimp. Again. Some of you may remember my unfortunate ankle sprains right around the time I began this blog. It coincided (extremely unfortunately) with my very first half marathon. It was approximately 18 months ago. I had been completely free and clear of sprains until now! WAHHH.
You probably assume I was doing some sort of crazy exercise when I sprained it, like jumping on Spiderbands that were suspended from the ceiling or something. But no, I was walking. On my own two feet. And before you ask me the most offensive question, like emoji-bf did when I first told him, NO, I was not on my phone when it happened. My phone was actually in my pocket! This was doubly lucky because I get to tell everyone that “no, I am not careless, I am just clumsy,” and it’s also lucky because I fell completely on the ground and my phone probably would have shattered if I had dropped it.
I was casually walking on my way from work to the subway to go teach two classes at the gym. I looked left and right to cross the street (112th street on the west side), and unfortunately, I was too busy looking for crazy New York drivers to look down at the crazy New York streets. There was a huge pot hole in the crosswalk. I learned a very important lesson: potholes are not just dangerous for cars.
I fell to the ground and 3 people stopped for me, including a dad holding his two little sons’ hands. As I was falling, watching my fitness goals and dreams blow up before me in slow-motion, of course I screamed “SHIT!!!” I looked up to try and hobble out of the street before I was run over by a car, and I spotted the dad and his kids and I apologized for my curse words. The dad kept asking if I was ok and said his kids had heard worse. I’m sure that’s true; it’s New York, they probably heard worse just that morning. I was in a LOT of pain. I felt tears stinging at my eyes but I knew I couldn’t cry in front of these kids. One of them had a cast on his wrist already, so I just hoped my ankle wasn’t broken like him and tried to hop to the sidewalk.
After many rounds of “I swear I’m fine” as I blinked back tears and hopped down the street, I walked into a Famiglia Pizzeria and asked for a bag of ice. I was on my way to the gym, which meant I knew I had a good hour to ice my ankle on the subway. As luck would have it, the only other person in the pizzeria was an NYPD officer. He saw me standing flamingo-style on one leg and he looked down at my ankle. His eyebrows flew up to his hairline as he saw the swollen ankle and he asked if he should call me an ambulance. I adamantly said no (although it would have probably gotten me to the gym faster than the MTA), and then he asked if he could “take a look at my ankle.” I told him no thanks, because the last thing I wanted was a stranger touching it. I could barely touch it myself. He asked me where I was headed, and when I told him “the gym,” he looked at me like I was crazy and decided I was beyond help.
I double wrapped a plastic bag full of ice, hopped down the two flights of stairs to the subway, and iced my ankle all the way to Brooklyn. The hard part, of course, was that I was supposed to then teach two fitness classes. My first class was Spinning, where I sat on the saddle of the bike, and propped my ankle on the handlebars on top of a bag of ice. I barked orders at my class for a full hour on the microphone, while trying to numb my pain. It was the first spin class I ever sat through without breaking a sweat. One of my regulars told me it was one of the hardest classes I ever taught. I guess I’m mean when I’m in excruciating pain.
The next class was supposed to be kickboxing. LOL. Considering I couldn’t even stand, I was definitely not jumping or kicking anything. I set up interval stations around the room and told them what exercises to do, for 1 minute on, 30 seconds off. I finished the classes with 5 minutes of core work on our backs (I could do this!) and then I had to ask for help to get me off the floor. Pretty comical.
Having a sprained ankle in New York comes with a unique set of problems, since I am constantly required to be walking and standing to get around in the city. I am in the middle of compiling a list of Sprankle Problems. Stay tuned. For now, here are a few awesomely gnarly photos of my cankle. Enjoy.
