I can always justify the need for a new pair of shoes.

I don't consider myself enough of an athlete to ever consider the possibility of an injury. I'm prone to bike grease on the back of my calves and all over my hands and occasionally my nose when my chain drops and I itch my face while replacing it. Sometimes my toes are sore after a run. Sometimes. But, sore and greasy are about as far as it goes.

One time, I fell off the concrete step in our garage when I was running out to tell The Tall One about a killer vacation deal. "Twisted" the side of my foot. I don't know how else to describe it since it wasn't a joint injury or a bruise or anything, but HURT, it did. And I limped around a lot for a couple of weeks. Even rented a pair of crutches. But, those things hurt my armpits more than the side of my foot ever hurt.

And, once or twice after each boy was born, I got all "down in my back" from lifting and holding and rocking and swaying my almost 10 lb. "pot roast" of a baby.

But, only this week, have I really felt the discomfort of what I guess is my first real "sports injury." And I don't know what I did or when I did it. I didn't do anything differently, any harder or any softer. It's my left knee and the swelling has just begun to subside and the pain isn't too bad anymore, but it feels like I've got a nylon stocking stretched vertically across the top of my knee. And, occasionally, there are these audible little pops. And, well, that'll trigger a wave of nausea like I NEVER had while pregnant. And forget bending down. Or squatting. Or walking normal.

"How'd you hurt your knee?" the doctor would ask.

"Ice it," he'd say.

"Rest it."

These things I know. And don't know. So, in my professional medical opinion, I'm going to skip the copay and instead order another pair of flip flops from Zappos dot com.

Ordered a pair last week that I'd admired in a store that didn't have my size. Ordered the right size online for the same price as the store model, paid no tax or shipping and had them on my feet less than 24 hours later. NOT kidding.

This "injury" has halted my running schedule and that really BITES since I've purchased a few new iTunes lately. And lemme say, OH YES I DID!, use my last $1.02 of an iTunes gift card to buy a JOHN. DENVER. SONG. Because I love John Denver and I loved this post. (Turn up your volume ... and sailllll.) When I was little and used to lean against my parents' big ol' console stereo, I'd play over and over John Denver and Barry Manilow records. Much later, it was Saturday Night Fever, Shaun Cassidy and Urban Cowboy, but that was after I had my OWN juke box-style record player.

I'm going to need a tiny portion of that copay to put under The Short One's pillow since he has his first loose tooth. Seems I've only known him WITH teeth. The gummy grins are in all the pictures, but not as vivid in my mind as those sharp, little white teeth.

He has a new bike, too. I only asked my friend -- a friend who can ROCK a thrift shop and lube up a bike chain better than any guy -- for ADVICE on finding a thrift bike for The Short One, who had ridden the wheel hubs out of his 21-year-old hand-me-down Huffy. Minutes later, in speedy "Zappos-like" fashion, she had us rigged up on a 20" Redline that in a previous life was a high-dollar racing bike and in this life, with a new seat and grips, is the highlight of The Short One's year.

So, this injury has slowed me. And stopped me. And made me realize how very much I take my good health for granted. In a sense. I'm thankful on a daily basis for my good health and that of my family. But, when I get right down to it, I really take my knees for granted every time I bend to tie a shoe or climb onto my bike. I take my back for granted every time I lift a box or a backpack or a little boy. I take for granted that I don't live with pain.

When I was young and in gymnastics, I always WANTED to be the girl in the leotard and ACE Bandage. It looked COOL to be all wrapped up and injured and covered in that dusty, white chalk from the uneven bars. I even tried to fake it a few times, a sprained ankle, just to get to pay a visit to the trainer's tent.

I've decided to chalk this injury up to needing a new pair of running shoes. THAT'S IT! New shoes! What took me so long?