Peas Will Save Us All
I skipped a training run for the second time yesterday. Instead, I swam for 25 minutes, which is a really long time for me. There is so much to keep track of when you are swimming: fingers together, arms flailing (well, that’s how I do it), legs kicking (except sometimes when I forget to kick), head turning, stay in your lane, cast magic spell on goggles to stay free of water. It’s hard.
I wonder if this would be just another thing to keep track of (maybe only if I know the words to the song) or a welcome distraction from my exhaustion. Does anybody have one? I am nervous that I would use it wrong and destroy my iPod. The stakes may be too high.
So, my trainer rocks. Stacy is exactly my age and is from Irving, Texas, which is just about a dozen miles from my hometown. Speaking of my hometown - and I can’t tell you how much excitement this has caused in my life – it turns out it is one of the 100 BEST places to live! Number 19, baby. It doesn’t get better than that (we declined on 1-18. Those numbers are so pretentious. Is that the kind of place you want to live? I think not.
Anyway, Stacy took Doc’s molestations to a new level. These are not jobs for shy people. She pushed and poked and bended me all around, and basically said that:
1) I’m a big pronator
2) Poor rehab after I broke my leg has made it so that my brain doesn’t communicate well with my foot. She showed me this by telling me to move my foot in a bunch of different ways, and there were a couple that took me several tries. So it was like this:
Anyway, so all this poor communication and pronating and, incidentally, “weak glutes” (WTF?) means that I am using my muscles and other guts inefficiently, so some little ones are getting way more work than they can handle, while the big ones are sitting around surfing the web and playing sudoku.
Stacy says I gotta get strong and teach some guts to move more properly. I said ok. She said I might be able to do my run on Saturday, which is really exciting, but it was a definite maybe, nothing more. Until then, I’m going to be a little guppy, swimming my little guppy heart out. Tomorrow, I have another appointment with Stacy.
She also said I should be taking Aleve or Advil when I run (I’d been taking Tylenol), because they actually reduce inflammation rather than just mask pain. Lastly, she prescribed a few stretches to do a lot and some frozen peas to ice my leg where ever it hurts.
When I lived in Hawaii, we use to feed frozen peas to the fish when we were snorkeling. They have since banned frozen peas because the fish got really aggressive and started goosing people in demand of more peas. Who knew that peas were so multi-functional?
I wonder if this would be just another thing to keep track of (maybe only if I know the words to the song) or a welcome distraction from my exhaustion. Does anybody have one? I am nervous that I would use it wrong and destroy my iPod. The stakes may be too high.
So, my trainer rocks. Stacy is exactly my age and is from Irving, Texas, which is just about a dozen miles from my hometown. Speaking of my hometown - and I can’t tell you how much excitement this has caused in my life – it turns out it is one of the 100 BEST places to live! Number 19, baby. It doesn’t get better than that (we declined on 1-18. Those numbers are so pretentious. Is that the kind of place you want to live? I think not.
Anyway, Stacy took Doc’s molestations to a new level. These are not jobs for shy people. She pushed and poked and bended me all around, and basically said that:
1) I’m a big pronator
2) Poor rehab after I broke my leg has made it so that my brain doesn’t communicate well with my foot. She showed me this by telling me to move my foot in a bunch of different ways, and there were a couple that took me several tries. So it was like this:
Brain: Do this.
Foot: Hmm? How’s that?
Brain: No, do this.
Foot: I’m sorry, I was on the phone. What was that?
Brain: FOOT, I mean it.
Foot: Fine, there, I did it.
But my right foot is more like this:Brain: Do thi—
Foot: Done!
Anyway, so all this poor communication and pronating and, incidentally, “weak glutes” (WTF?) means that I am using my muscles and other guts inefficiently, so some little ones are getting way more work than they can handle, while the big ones are sitting around surfing the web and playing sudoku.
Stacy says I gotta get strong and teach some guts to move more properly. I said ok. She said I might be able to do my run on Saturday, which is really exciting, but it was a definite maybe, nothing more. Until then, I’m going to be a little guppy, swimming my little guppy heart out. Tomorrow, I have another appointment with Stacy.
She also said I should be taking Aleve or Advil when I run (I’d been taking Tylenol), because they actually reduce inflammation rather than just mask pain. Lastly, she prescribed a few stretches to do a lot and some frozen peas to ice my leg where ever it hurts.
When I lived in Hawaii, we use to feed frozen peas to the fish when we were snorkeling. They have since banned frozen peas because the fish got really aggressive and started goosing people in demand of more peas. Who knew that peas were so multi-functional?
posted by Daphne at 8:43 AM
1 Comments:
Hey Daphne! Kate S. gave me the link to your blog, I love it! So, I swear by Advil, it's my best friend. But be careful you don't take a bunch before you run and just mask the pain, all the while running into more injury because you can't feel it. But then I take as much as possible afterwards. I'm just a lowly 8k-er with a trick hip, not a big, bad marathoner! Good luck :)
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