Medial Tibial
Stress Syndrome

A Story

by Sue Mell
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Great read. As a woman in what I call "my 7th inning stretch," I watch my neighbors jogging on the cement sidewalks, bicycling later in the afternoon, then return around 7 pm for an after-dinner stroll. It all makes me tired!

My gig is "Dancing Like Nobody's Watching" and freaking-out in my living room. After 20 minutes of being silly with Donna Summers and friends, I relax with a nice bottle of Starbuck's Frappacino and pat myself on the back, while my neighbors visit chiropractors and massage practitioners. Sue Mell makes it clear that aging is a natural process and we don't need medals to prove we're alive. Just keep moving to the music of life.

Nicely done. Thank you. So much of this I recognize in myself. Ah . . . one secret of a good story teller . . .

What a terrific story! I chuckled in recognition until the wrenching, disturbing end.

I really enjoyed this, not only because so many of my friends are doing that triathlete training, but because of the timing and skill with which the author has told this tale.

As tightly packed as a cigarette, and with an ending as explosive as the first puff of smoke. Absolutely wonderful. I guess I'm in my "eighth inning stretch." Brava!

I nearly decided not to go on that bike ride after reading this. But I did nevertheless, laughing and looking out more than I would otherwise, wishing I could write with such a bite that it tickles at first then leaves a mark at the end. Wonderful stuff.

Thanks for another uplifting story, Sue. You always get me laughing right before the kick in the face. How do you do it?

I relate all too well to this one. Love the image of the Grim Reaper with a can of Coke (not even Diet Coke) and a bag of chips. Beautifully written, with splendid language choices and a denouement that knocks the wind out of you.

The ending cheered me up.

Nice read. You got it right on!

Love it!

Cyclists and runners, played out against a backdrop of time, passing as it does, inexorably. The story struck a chord with me, as I just turned fifty myself. I especially like the "elegant fury" of the story's collision-- a nice turn of phrase. Well done, ma'am.