My spring break kicked off with a thud. It was the Friday before spring break and I was at work, playing outfield in our usual kickball game. I work in an after school care program and take pride in my dominance over the kids in kickball, especially the fifth grade boys who tend to get a little big for their britches. The de facto leader of the fifth grade boys stepped up to the plate, so I kicked off my sandals to prevent any encumbrance when running for the catch. He kicked a high pop-up into right field behind the swing set and I took off at full tilt in pursuit. By the time I reached the ball it was only a foot off the ground, but I got both hands on it then, bang! I had run full speed into the swing set pole with my right foot sending me face first into the artificial turf. Trying my hardest to be macho I tried to play it off like no big deal, but the entire playground had heard the thwack of my foot against the pole and I was in agony. My toes had bent backwards upon impact so my foot took the majority of the hit. This resulted in a broken metatarsal and swelling so bad my toes couldn't touch the ground for a week. My dad being a doctor saved me from a hospital bill; he got a boot from work for me to hobble around in for the next month. My planned trip to Atlanta was ruined, but I still had a fun spring break nerding it up with Street Fighter all night and day.
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