Gratitude. It leads my daily decisions. As I stare down at my ace wrapped ankle drinking my coffee while my family gets ready to ski, I feel a little sorry for myself. I only let the feeling linger for a second because, hell, I could have torn a calf muscle, ruptured my ACL or, worse, my achilles, all injuries common among my middle aged tennis community. I simply sprained an ankle. Down, but not out. Continue reading
