Since I didn't have to work out today, I showered, dressed, dried my hair, put on deodorant, trimmed my fingernails and toenails, brushed my teeth, and flossed. You might not be too impressed, but it's been a rough couple of weeks, and when I presented myself to my husband with a flourish and shouted, "TA-DA!" he knew exactly what I was talking about.
It's Day Two of the War on Plantar Fasciitis, and I have already iced once, stretched twice, and rolled a golf ball underfoot for half an hour. My feet feel much better, but I'm not being lulled into complacency. This foe must be vanquished.
P.S. I like these planned rest days much better than the oh-no-too-swamped-to-work-out-too-swamped-to-exist-panic-panic-panic rest days.