don’t go jump in the river – wade

Unless you’re up for a night (and counting) of R.I.C.E. combined with a heaping dose insomnia inducing pain. I’ve been continuing with my repetitions of Devil’s Gate Trail. Yesterday evening was gloomy and drizzly. It had been raining (very lightly – 6mm) all day. A trail run seemed like a nice idea so I rode up there and got started.

When I got to the creek crossing it was semi-flooded. I was surprised by this because the rain was super light and this section of the creek is just below the dam. Maybe they were letting water out from behind the dam for some reason. I managed to pick my way across the first ribbon on some rocks with only minimal amount of water lapping up on the shoes.

The second ribbon (do people call separate paths of a creek a ribbon? I guess I am, here) was a bit more challenging. Had to sort of hang over from a tree trunk hoping to leap across at just the right moment of lean but lost my grip and had to go for it prematurely. A little more lapping there but mostly a solid mud landing.

Then the third ribbon – a lot of ribbons for such a small little creek. I decided to jump it. I didn’t have any run-up space so it was a standing long jump, which I haven’t practiced much since 5th grade gym class. I was pretty sure I didn’t have enough spring in my legs to clear the distance and I was right. I landed two feet full splash down onto the sloping mud bottom just below the surface of the water about a foot short of the bank. Shoes, socks, shorts all soaked.

It’s okay. Carry on. Squish, squish for a short while but eventually fine. Up the rocky steep section of trail that leads over and through the dam. Down the other side to the turn around. Now do it all again in reverse.

I realized that I got a bit lucky on the outward bound crossing the first time and considered taking an alternate route back to the bike but that route is not as enjoyable and adds too much road.

So there I am back at the creek – the ribbon I’d just (almost) leaped across. This time, going the other direction, I had about a one step run-up so I thought maybe I’d clear it. And if not, well, my shoes were already soaked so what’s to lose? Well, again. I didn’t clear the distance. This time coming down on one foot which landed hard on an unexpectedly steep slope under the murky water. Crush.

The ankle only bends so far straight back, toes up until it stops. But all that energy of motion keeps going and smashes everything tighter together. It doesn’t feel good. It makes me feel really stupid. Obviously, I waded slowly through the remaining ribbons of the creek which is what I should have done to begin with, thereby avoiding a jacked up ankle and ending my running week and a sleepless pain-filled night.

Somehow (maybe endorphins) I was able to run the last mile back to the bike without much trouble although now that I think about it that last bit of running probably did the most to start the night’s pain cycle.

Miraculously, the ankle feels a lot better already this next morning. I can put weight on it again. No plan for a visit to urgent care. It’s not ready to be tested in any significant way but I might consider a one-mile ride to the farmer’s market this evening. As for the 10-mile ride across town tomorrow – eh, we’ll have to wait and see – the ride would probably be okay (piano pace, of course) but not sure about the landscaping job at the other end. Not to mention the ride back afterward. I should probably reschedule.

Stupid boy. Too much Mule, not enough Mindful.