In May, it will have been two years since I broke my ankle. I have to say, that was one of the lousiest six week periods of my life: I broke my ankle, Michael’s Grandmother died, and Grandmom broke her femur. On the other hand, Jules and Lily were born during that period, so perhaps it wasn’t all horrible.

Last year, I adjusted my walking goal to try to get 8000 steps a day, and often didn’t make that. This year, I decided that I’d get back to aiming for a minimum of 10k steps five days a week, and try for more than that. Which I’ve been doing.

This past week, Michael and I started walking around the stadium area in the evenings, but I noticed that when going down hills, the bones in my ankle were occasionally grinding. So we rearranged our route to walk down the stairs and up the hill.

Last night as we were walking around town, I realized that the reason my ankle was grinding was because I was walking on the outside of my foot. Then I realized the reason I was walking on the outside of my foot was because walking normally was uncomfortable. Painful even.

Apparently my ankle isn’t 100% even now, so I’ll be cutting back on the steep hills, try to pay more attention to how I’m walking, and get off my damned feet at the end of the day.

Bah humbug.