So to speak. Yesterday I found out that my physiotherapy appointment wasn’t going to be until July 9th, so I decided – FUCK IT – and went to the gym. It was also my first time out and about without using at least one crutch in almost five weeks. Checking back on my last sprain (which was actually a fracture, though I didn’t know it at the time) it took just over a month for me to get back to the gym, so I guess I’m healing at about the same rate as last time. The main difference, of course, is that it’s both of them.

I had been worried about my Málaga getaway last weekend, especially when on my first night there my right foot was in terrible pain. The next day was a bit better, though. And on Saturday I even went out on my friend Victor’s walking tour. Since then the pain level seems to have dropped a bit, with my right foot still hurting more than my left ankle. It’s still very tiring but it’s good to see and feel some improvement.

Anyhow, the gym was fine. I took down my biking level a notch (only going up two “hills” in 40 minutes instead of the usual four) and that didn’t seem to stress anything. I also got a chance to do some work with the hand-held weights and a couple of the upper-body machines. And it felt good to actually break a sweat and feel like I was getting some proper exercise. My gym was also kind enough to give me a free month so that I didn’t have to pay for the time I hadn’t been there.

Tonight I have a Sevilla Tapas Tour and I reckon I will no longer need Peter’s help with “tag team” tours anymore. But I really appreciate that he was there for me and could help out as much as he did. Onwards…