I didn't go to the gym. Stan was home sick so I stayed home to comfort/take a nap with him.
Good thing I didn't push it and go. Turns out I have a killer case of shin splints on my right ankle. Half the time I step down it feels as if someone is jamming a dull knife in my ankle. I was going to work through the pain, but that would only make it worse, although it sounds heroic.
This is what I get for exercising! Who knew it could be fraught with so much peril?
I just want to curl up with some cider, an ice pack, and a good book.
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