Friday, April 3, 2009
I have nice ankles. Its a rare point of vanity for me, but they're slim, prettily adorned (see above), and are an elegant link between my battered runner's feet and my bulky runner's calves. My friend and running partner Liz used to laugh at me for my dainty gait, since I tend to run on my toes and between that and my skinny ankles, it didn't seem possible for me carry myself a full 26 miles. I did, though.
I've been resigned to the fact that my feet are constantly swollen, resigned to the fact that I'm currently limited to wearing my Keens, my Birks and an old pair of running shoes.* But my ankles? The swelling makes me sad. I'm not quite to full cankle status yet, but they're definitely substantially bulkier. The lovely indentations on either side of the achilles tendon, between the tendon and the actual ankle bone? Gone. I really am fine with the idea that my feet will stay a size larger post-pregnancy, but I will get my ankles back, right?
end vanity post
* All right, I was a little bitter last night when I realized I couldn't fit into my tall boots anymore. Keens look funny with dresses.