Here's an advanced warning for you: I've got a picture further down in this post that you might not want to look at. You have every opportunity to turn away. You've been warned. For the past month I've been waking up twice a week to play basketball at Cincinnati Christian University. Used to play all the time when I worked there. I really suck at basketball but it gives me good exercise. Since I have no other physical activity right now, it's become a highlight of my week.

Last week we were playing and I landed on my left ankle. Hard. It was bad, but I messed up my right one worse playing at the wonderful carpeted court in Mason. That time I was on crutches for a few days, went to physical therapy, and didn't fully heal for two months. Since this one wasn't that bad, I thought it'd be a couple days and then back to normal.

Eight days later, I'm still hobbling. I have to tip-toe up steps to relieve the pain. Had to take a picture to prove that I'm not a wuss. And now you have to see it:

Nice coloration, eh? The bruise almost looks like a Nike swoosh. Oh, and you're welcome.

Honestly, I freak out about getting injured now. I used to roll ankles all the time playing soccer in college but I'd pull on an ankle brace, pop some Advil and not miss a beat. Now, I'm out for extended lengths of time. I don't think my body heals as quickly as it used to.

I'm not feeling old otherwise, but this is rather noticeable. I'm still going to fight off the effects of aging as long as I can [thank you, Oil of Olay], so as soon as this heals I'm going back to the basketball court . . .

. . . where I can suck again.