Thursday 28 February 2013

A stitch in time...

I loved to think about all these idioms and sayings in my now long forgotten youth. I distinctly recall thinking 'A stitch in time saves nine...' and prrrrr.. tearing the hem off a skirt of mine. Of course my skirts were all hemmed up with giant bits of cloth in the bottom, so they could be lengthened if I grew (which I never did, so, such a waste).

I ran that slightly hard race in Auroville. It wasn't hard per se, I will say. I mean, I felt better on the trail than I did in previous occasions. But there is always a combination of factors, no? I felt a tightness in my calf. I was hobbling around a bit for a few days after that, with that tightness.

When I feel niggles, I force myself to back the hell off. I hate to not exercise, I don't sleep peacefully when I get those extra hours in the morning on days I choose to not work out, but I do it. Because I have to be kind to my body. Or something.

So I was all cool and smug about my calf once it felt better. I was telling myself it was good that I rested it and rolled it and then ran slow to give it a chance to loosen up and recover. And was trying to advertise a product, a panacea, a cure-all, called the 'Gentle Run' ; just can that stuff, someone.

On Saturday I had decided on a rest day anyhow. I woke up early to drop the child off at swimming, came back home and slept again. Dragged myself up at some stage and we went back to pick her up. They were chilling and playing dodgeball at the pool. I sat down to read or play with my phone.

But she insisted I join the dodgeball game. It was all hodgepodge. I was in hawai chappals, wearing my loose sunglasses and my hair all over my face in a loose clip in the back. No sports bra. No warm up. It was that nasty hard tar road with pits. I should have just refused, but didn't want to be a spoil sport.

Long story short, I jumped up, avoided the ball nicely, remembered my years of dodgeball (was pretty good at it, even if I say so myself and there is no way of verifying), and somehow managed to run the time out for the game without getting out. And then hobbled back home and prescribed myself bed rest for the rest of the weekend..

Because I couldn't put my leg down on the ground at all without searing pain through my calves. I was pretty sure something was broken because it was a lot of pain. Or maybe I am a wuss. I was miserable through the weekend and in a grumpy mood all the way up to yesterday. It still hurts but I seem to have gotten back most of the range of motion I need.

If I run this weekend without incident I will be happy. No, I did not meet the doctor though I came close to making an appointment with him several times over the past few days. No, I don't know if this is smart or just plain stupid of me. I just don't feel like popping pills or taking MRIs right now. And my gut tells me that this is something I can cure with some rest and good attitude.

So off I go, to work on that damned attitude of mine. Meanwhile, let it be noted that I sincerely hope that I am never foolish enough to participate in half-assed games and things when I am not feeling in great shape and am in the middle of a 'rest day'. I am not 25 anymore, you know... 

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