It was 5:30 am and I didn’t want to get out of bed. I knew, I knew, that if I got up and put weight on my left foot it would hurt. If I didn’t get out of bed, there was the possibility that my ankle was really fine. I was in bed, nestled in my fantasy where I put on my clothes and shoes and went out in the crisp morning for a run.

It was a work day, I had to get up eventually. I stood up, my ankle hurt; I winced and smiled.