Yesterday was my first proper outing since breaking my ankle nearly two weeks ago. I admit that I probably shouldn’t have gone out, and that I probably shouldn’t have done as much walking when I did, but it was a much-needed day away. After all, it included free whisky!
The motivation for my outing was an open house event at the Scotch Malt Whisky Society. They were opening their new Members’ Rooms on Queen Street after some extensive remodelling, and—as a member—I couldn’t pass up the opportunity. Plus that, I had already invited three guests to join me for the evening. (Though all of them would have understood if I cancelled, I really didn’t want to!)
But it wasn’t as simple as just hopping in a taxi and heading to the venue. No, in true Just Frances fashion, I had to make things difficult on myself!
So… I’ve been housesitting in Glasgow for the last couple of weeks. During this time, I had planned to travel into the office a couple of times each week, whilst working remotely the rest of the week. Only the busted ankle meant that I worked from the couch since my tumble—forgoing the trips into my office in Edinburgh.
But the whisky was calling me yesterday, so into Edinburgh I went. Once there, I spent the day at my office before heading to the whisky society.
Don’t worry though, my doctor has said I can walk in the fracture boot. The limit I was given was “as much as you feel you can manage”. Though ultimately, I am meant to take it easy. Which I tried to do. Really.
To lessen the amount of walking I needed, I accepted a lift to the train station from a friend who was driving into the Glasgow city centre for work. Then I took a taxi from the train station in Edinburgh to my office, where my fellow PhD students looked after me, fetching my tea and such so that I didn’t have to walk much. Then when I left the office, I got a bus to the whisky society before getting a train back to Glasgow and a taxi home.
But I forgot about the sheer amount of walking I would have to do around the train stations. And from the front of my building to my actual office. And from my office to the bus and the bus to the whisky society. And all the other little steps in between.
So where most of the days since breaking my ankle have seen me taking less than 3,000 steps (mostly to-and-from my bed, the couch, the kitchen, and the loo) yesterday saw me taking more than 8,000 steps. With very little time spent just elevating my leg. (Less than 1,000 steps today.)
By the time I got home, my ankle was quite sore and a bit swollen. And to be honest, I thought that today would be a day of pure agony because of it.
Part of me thinks making the journey was a bad decision. But the reality is that the decision just wasn’t given enough scrutiny. I was thinking about my transportation options as a healthy person who can run a marathon—not as an invalid who can barely hobble 100 yards. My lesson was learned though, that’s for sure!
I’ve spent today on the couch with my leg elevated. And I am pleased to say that it is relatively pain-free today—even though I expected a bit of residual pain after yesterday’s silliness.
So yes, I walked for whisky. In fact, I walked a lot for whisky. But don’t worry: I didn’t drink a lot of whisky; just two wee drams of Islay malt. But I’m sure I’ll be using my Scotch Malt Whisky Society membership to enjoy a few more drams in the new members’ rooms over the years!