MY LEFT FOOT

Yesterday was a regular day.

I woke up, had my morning Cuban coffee and proceeded to work from home. I went for my usual run around noon.
To Hamilton Park, nothing unusual about that. I like this run, it's like a Village Voice tour of downtown Jersey City.
Strolling, running or jogging down Jersey Avenue you get to see the newly opened shops, cafes, renovated homes,
and my favorite: the corner Pentecostal Church which I secretly think I will buy someday.

The air was crisp, and the day cloudy, kind of a regular October day. Newark Avenue had its share of commercial traffic,
but all was uneventful. I did 2 laps around the park, this might be a mile and half. On the 3rd lap, I was sprinting hard,
('cause I don't want to turn into one of those flabby joggers) when out of nowhere a seemingly innocent pine cone--
ya know, one of those that fall from any of those evergreens, appeared right in my left foot's sprinting path.
The left foot did not see it. The left foot landed on the pine cone, the left foot's ankle twisted into a pretzel, the left foot
recovered as it walked it off, quite painfully, but proud of its quick recovery.

Ahh, but the recovery was short lived. About an hour and a half later, showered, and dressed, ready to begin all my errands,
my left foot began to throb. I ignored my left foot, thinking that it would go away. I got in the car and went to get gas.
Right about then, my left foot refused to be ignored. It started throbbing so hard that I felt like crying. What does a grown woman do when she cries? She calls her mother and tells on her left foot.

Sobbing hysterically, and with Mom in the car, I drove myself to my brother-in-law, the doctor, who, said he could see me.
My brother-in-law , the doctor's office is in the heart of Union City. Right across the street from the police station. I double parked in front of the doctor's office. A very compassionate police officer put on his wailing siren and told me to move.
Annoyed to no end, I drove around the block and found a spot. I realized I would have to hop or crawl all the way
to the doctor's office. I figured I could possibly start a new trend: The Union City bunny hop. Ready to be the fabulous
fashionista that I am, with tears streaming down my face, I was redeemed by the other kind of police officer, the kind
who actually has electrons that wire the brain/heart connection.

So, I double parked in front of the doctor's office and hobbled inside. That's when the hysterics started. That's when my left foot demanded all the attention it deserved. The usual took place: my brother in law tried very hard to make me laugh and forget about the pain, prescribed crutches, an ankle brace and x-rays. (My brother in law is a very cool person)
And that's pretty much how it went. The left foot was driven to get x-rays and had his sexy little mug photographed in soft tones of x-rays hues.

The left foot is feeling better today, although looking a little ragged. A little swollen, a little bruised.

Me, I think I'll abandon running for crutches, if only for now.