Hubris Gets You Every Time
Saturday, I crowed about not getting sick, being able to ski, and no Chinooks.
Well, let’s check in on what’s happened since that late Saturday night post. Sunday morning, while making the always tricky trek into the garage, I sprained my ankle - not a hideous sprain, but significant. And as I type, it’s 36 degrees and the roads are a melting mess. Sheesh…
I knew I was getting myself into trouble with that post.
The funny thing is that given all the athletic stuff I’ve done my entire life; skiing, climbing, bike racing, mountain bike racing, hockey, etc., I’ve never broken or sprained anything - well other than a few chipped bones in my hand. I’ve had some spectacular biffs, but the worst ouches I sustained were just some impressive bruises - well and a root canal as a result of getting smashed in the mouth with a racquetball racquet. But that’s different - someone else was on the other end of the racquet. It wasn’t self inflicted.
And to sprain my ankle walking out into the garage is just really humiliating. I don’t even get a good story out of it.
My hope is that I’ll be fully functional again on the two leg front within a week. Until then, I am definitely Chester-like.
Mr. Dillion! Mr. Dillion! There’s Been a Shootin’
Hello. I am 
Remember, most accidents happen at home.