A Letter to My Ankles

Dear Ankles,

I would like to clear the elephant in the room. For some time now we have had what could be called at best a love/hate relationship. I try to love and take care of you, I buy you nice expensive braces, I ice you when needed. I've given you countless hours with a personal trainer (also known as a physical therapist). I try not to walk on un-even ground to try and avoid rolling you unintentionally. I work out my calves so you have something nice to look at. I wear Jordan Brand shoes so you are always surrounded by greatness and style. I've even given one of you an extreme makeover (aka surgery). Yet all you do is return my love with hate. I give and I give and I give, and you roll and you roll and you roll.

Sometimes I try to have conversations with you, you know give you a little pep talk. I tell you, I'm not going to ask much from you. I'm not going to try and make ridiculous cuts or plant hard on you, I just want to run, jump and occasionally shuffle without any problems. And if you could talk back to me, I'm pretty confident your response would sound something like, "Hahahahaha, don't you wish! We'll give out on you whenever we please!" And I've got to give it to you, you are joints of your word.

So after a third injury in the last month, I've given up my attempts to plead and reason with you. I'm giving you a break. No more jumping, no more coming down on other peoples feet, no more planting to get in front of my man on defense. You can officially take a leave of absence. Maybe in a couple months you will decide to come back to work for me. Until then, enjoy your vacation.

Sincerely,
The Rest of Your Body (aka Ravi)