Dogs Don't Eat Pizza

Tomorrow will mark one year since I broke my leg.

It’s hard to believe that it has been one year.  Time-wise, it feels like it happened eight years ago.  Leg-wise, I still feel it when I run or go for a walk.

You can read all about how it (and I) went down on February 2, 2012.

Since then, I’ve learned a lot.

I learned (or, more accurately, was reminded – I already knew it) that the kindness of my friends and family knows no bounds. I was surprised by the utter selfishness of a few, but that was more, more, more than outweighed by the kindness, generosity, and support of many, many friends and family, for which I am still grateful.

I am surprised by how skittish I still am about walking after a rain or on uneven pavement (which is pretty much anywhere in our neighborhood).

To celebrate (?) the anniversary, I decided to conquer a little fear I have about this corner, where I fell:

I walked the dogs this morning and, although I have pretty much avoided this corner until now, I decided to walk here today.

As I approached the corner, my leg actually ached.  Crazy mental fear…go away.

The dogs and I walked around the corner, and I smiled.

I didn’t fall.  We kept on walking, proudly.

My leg stopped hurting. I got home in one piece.

Here’s to a healthy 2013.