I have strained my right MCL. That's apparently a ligament in my knee (I don't remember; I was drunk that day in A & P, I guess) that does something like keep one's knee from bending at some crazy angle toward one's other leg. Mine is strained, not torn, which is a good thing. It means that I can still shop for groceries and do laundry and work, though I do all those things with a limp and a pronounced disinclination to squat, and it also means that I won't need surgery.
It happened like this: I had just gotten out of a nice, hard 30-minute workout on the treadmill and exercise bike, and spotted my buddy Bunsen. Bunsen's half Golden Retriever and half Traveling Salesman, as Mom would say, and is about a year old and about 80 pounds. He's also enthusiastic about playing Chase The Ball And Then Tackle The Human. We played Try To Tackle The Human for about twenty minutes, during which time I had to feint repeatedly to each side...while wearing my MBTs.
When you buy the things, they come with a little booklet that cautions you to be careful of doing things that require lots of feinting to each side. They also caution you against doing things that require a combination of balance and weight, like lunges. What they don't caution you against is being a blasted idiot, so of course I went out and was a blasted idiot.
The chief of the ortho department's reaction was this: "Dude. Bummer. A week or two. Ice. Bummer." (Yes, he really talks that way.) Chef Boy's reaction was this: "Wow, that was stupid." (Yes, he's really that supportive and gentle.) Chef Boy did provide me with an ice pack and some ibuprofen last night, though, and I was able to head out and pick up coffee and bread today. I'm going to spend the rest of the day icing this dadratted knee off and on and reading fashion magazines.
Tomorrow starts a week of intensive upper-body training and, I guess, very little in the way of aerobic exercise. I suppose I'll have to wrap my leg, or something, to provide extra stability while I'm wandering around work.
Take-home from this experience: Do not, under any circumstances, no matter how happy he is to see you, play with a puppy pal while wearing your MBTs. Run home and change your shoes first.