One step too many.
Only a lanky fellow between me, the ball and the goal. Someone yelled, "Half!" I just wanted to see what I could do.
What I did was step on the ball. Now it was the lanky fellow, the ball and me between me and the goal.
As I stood up, the left foot didn't feel right. It still doesn't feel right. No stress fracture, but the doctor said to return in ten days if it still hurts. Today is day seven. It still hurts.
I know that every step on a trail is a potential strain, stress, pull, tweak. The list of ills is endless.
But every step develops a little more strength. Every step lets me to see glorious things; a sunrise, a sunset, a bird, deer, a porcupine, a bear one time, a foggy meadow, 12,600 ft. It seems as if every step on a trail begs another. I usually wish I could take just one more.
Last Friday night, I took one just one more. I should have known better. I wasn't on a trail.