I had decided to go for a run after work today. My glutes, quads and hamstrings are sore, but I stubbornly wanted to get ‘er done. It went something like this:
- Walk briskly to the corner, a bounce in my step and feeling excited for the run despite the grey skies and crispness to the air.
- Cross the street and begin to run.
- Imagine Dragons had me wishing that I had the lungs to sing out loud while I run. I used to be able to do that…back when I ran a lot more often, like more than a year ago.
- About 500 metres into the run I began to feel every sore muscle in my lower half. I had a feeling that this “short” run would end up feeling incredibly long.
- Despite muscles and lungs that wanted to quit, I couldn’t help but picture myself as Rocky Balboa, running down the street, and I was determined to finish strong. I can be stubborn that way sometimes.
- As I neared the 1 kilometre mark, I told myself that I was going to take the flat way home. There was absolutely no way that I was going to want to take the harder route.
- I waited at the intersection for the light to change, the last chance to choose the final route home. Once again I told myself that I was taking a left turn to go flat.
- The light changed and I started to run across.
- “Shit, Angela!”
- Yes, I swore at myself.
- Yes, I went straight instead of turning left. Yes, I took the hilly route.
- I powered my way up that hill. I was Rocky Balboa!
- Then I went down the hill, almost home and the bottom of my right hip started to hurt just a little.
- The run was done and I felt on top of the world. The last half of the run was much easier than the first, and the hill was in that second half!
- The hip started hurting a little bit more, like it hasn’t for quite some time, and the post-run high pushed me off the cliff.
- I wasn’t Rocky Balboa anymore; I was Bullwinkle. The stupid, clumsy, awkward sidekick.
The hip pain wasn’t too high on the scale, but I knew that it wasn’t an indication of good things. I shot off a text to my chiropractor, and I wasn’t really surprised by his response. And yet, in a way, it feels almost as devastating as when I realized that I couldn’t go to Nationals.
I am not happy about putting running on the back burner again. Actually, I don’t think it is even on the stove anymore, at least not for some undetermined time. My chiropractor isn’t saying “never again” but “not for now”. That doesn’t make me feel any better really. I just had a 4.5 month break from running. I wasn’t planning on doing any major races or long runs, just a little run once or twice a week, but mostly just once a week. Two runs in two weeks…and I’m done. This disc issue really sucks, but I suppose that the only way to get rid of it is to listen to the people who are smarter than me.