Archive for April 9th, 2010

So….yep. I’m still sick. And still pretty whiney. Nothing much else is new unless you want to talk about my ankle and I DO NOT WANT TO TALK ABOUT MY ANKLE.

Oh, fine. Let’s talk about my ankle.

I was doing surprisingly great with my running regimen. Up and at em every morning at 6am. Running my fool little heart out. I could see a huge change in my endurance from when I first started and I was really enjoying the alone time that doesn’t often present itself in a day spent with a 2 and 4 year old.

Then last week, the third week of this schedule, my knees started to feel like lead when I ran. (Yes I said knees, the ankle part comes later, I’m getting there.) Not like a little stiffness, but like someone was forcefully pushing them down when I was trying to lift them up. A few mornings the feeling would dissipate halfway through, but on at least 2 runs they felt terrible for the entire 5k and continued to hurt all day.

I thought it was weird but just committed to stretching and conditioning my body a little better. I tend to jump into these sorts of things with both feet and don’t give myself much time to adjust. Clearly, I learned, 29 and a half year old knees need to be coaxed into these sorts of things. They want to be wined and dined, perhaps presented with flowers of some kind and then be told how much they are loved and appreciated before that kind of work-out. I promised my knees I’d stop treating them like whores and thought things would be fine.

Only then my ankle (THAT BITCH) was all WHAT ABOUT ME? It felt a little uncomfortable last Thursday on my run, but I didn’t pay it much mind because I knew with the long Easter weekend I would be giving it a break and figured by early this week it would be rested and happy. Unfortunately my dumb ass decided on Saturday to run on the thing, even though it was sore, because I got a new iPod armband that I wanted to test out and HEAVEN FORBID I wait a few days. Oh no. That wouldn’t do.

About half-way through I knew I’d made a pretty big mistake as my ankle was threatening to detach itself from my body by shear will and force of PAIN, but… eh… running is faster than walking so if I run I will be able to get home faster and put some ice on it sooner. Seriously. THAT was my logic. GENIOUZ. When I came hobbling in the door and told Bill, he was all “Wow, for a smart person you’re pretty fucking stupid” and I could do nothing but agree with him. And tell him to SHUT IT and get me some ice.

So, yeah. It’s been almost a week and it’s still swollen and extremely painful. What’s that about making a doctor’s appointment? Oh, don’t worry. My superior brain’s got that one covered. If I go to the doctor they’ll just tell me to ice it, take ibuprofen and stay off of it. I already am taking ibuprofen and icing it and as for the staying off of it part, well, that doesn’t exactly work when you have to take care of 2 kids in a townhome with 498 stairs. I could ask the doctor to write me a note but something tells me Keaton wouldn’t give a shit.

So I’m going to do absolutely nothing. Let’s see how well that works for me. I’m pretty sure it will miraculously heal itself over the weekend anyway. If I wish REALLY hard. I’ve heard that sometimes works in movies and stuff. I guess my odds would be better if I were a cartoon but it’s still worth a shot. Or! Maybe I’ll just drink the pain away- I’ve heard that has a pretty high success rate, AMIRITE? Of course I am. Good idea, me! FOOLPROOF.


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