Gumby I Ain't

Last Friday after work, I joined up with T, The Boy & a couple of his friends at the local regional park for a church function (in name at least; I don't think I saw anyone I recognized there). When it was all over, we made our way back to the parking lot. Now, the path back up the hill to the lot is basically a couple of loooong switchbacks. Being tired from work & swimming, I decided to cut up the slope to the lot rather than follow the walkway. I had in one hand a grocery bag with my clothes in it &, in the other, a small cooler.

Things were fine until I got to the guardrail. An evil guardrail. One that takes perverse pleasure in growing four inches while certain non-flexible, cooler carrying people straddle it. I found this out after I got my right leg over & was preparing to hoist it's counterpart over next. As I brought my left foot over, it caught on the guardrail (evil, stupid guardrail), causing me to start falling over to my right. As I did that, my right foot, which had been firmly planted on the ground, decided to roll under me. In effect, I was standing on my ankle. All two hundred & whatever pounds of me. To make matters worse, I couldn't get the cooler & shopping bag out of my hands. I tried leaning on the cooler, but couldn't get the leverage I needed to get off my ankle.

So, with a mild oath (it was a church function, in name, at least) & a mighty "heave ho," I wrapped my left leg around the guardrail. Being made of a skinny piece of sheet metal, the rail didn't offer much in the way of cushioning. Not wanting my foot to snap off & tumble down the hill, I pulled myself up & managed to get said appendage back under me. I then swung my left leg over. This is when I found out what happens when you apply a death grip to a rail. I now have a nice, long bruise across my calf & a matching one on my inner thigh.

Needless to say, walking has been less than pleasant since then.