The diagnosis from my GQ podiatrist (relationship status: unknown), is that I do not have any sign of a fracture, old or new (old or new!), non-union, or otherwise. I do, however, have two torn ligaments in my sesamoid complex (i.e. the ligaments that make up the joint of your first toe), and a hearty case of sesamoiditis.
Both GQ man and I were confused as to how I could have torn ligaments when such an injury is usually caused by on obvious precipitating event. Perhaps it was an overzealous game of Settlers? Maybe I got too excited jumping down from the ladder while I was painting? Could it have happened while ferrying my dead motorcycle back and forth across the street?
It remains a mystery. A very painful mystery.
My plan of action is to hobble over to the Court Street YMCA, sign up for a family membership and resign myself to another summer of swimming. Sound familiar? I'm more enthused about swimming this year, but I still secretly want to throttle all you cheerful people in your matching running gear.