On top of all my woes concerning my joints and digits, it feels like I may have broken my foot. I've never broken a foot, though I've broken all four of my limbs. It happened at karate. I was sparring with my usual sparring partner and it was getting pretty heated, as usual. At one point, I was attempting to deliver a death blow to his groin (just kidding) when he wisely brought his knee up to block it and I ended kicking that, instead. It felt like kicking a brick wall.
Oddly enough, it didn't hurt that bad at first, but when I got home, it really started to ache, and I went to bed in serious pain, hoping it would abate by morning. No such luck. When I woke up, I could barely walk, though I did find that through the course of the day, it felt better as a result of using it.
Best of all, and it's moments like these that make R shake her head in bewilderment, but when we took A to her choir practice, me and N went and played soccer. What you're probably wondering in amazement is what sort of fool goes to play soccer with his son with a broken foot. Well, I kind of figured that I'd be fine as long as I don't use that foot. After all, how strenuous is soccer with a six year old? Of course, when the ball is zipping by you, your mind goes blank and you instinctively reach out your foot, even if it's broken, to stop the ball.
Life ain't easy when you're training to be a real man. Until the next time, thanks for reading, and thanks to Nadja Girod for the pic.