Once I was told that I have "calves that baaa."
Yup, they kind of do. In fact, they're the only part of my body that I've never really had to worry about before -- they've always been strong and muscular and kind of rockin'. Throw some heels on and let's go party.
It's just a genetic fluke. My Dad has the most ridiculously muscular calves you've ever seen. Like easily 10-12 inch around and cut like Schwarzenneger before he became governor. And Dad is a musicologist. Seriously. A musicologist.
That, my dear friends, is genetics at work.
Trust me, there's a bunch about my body that I've had an "issue" (or three) with in the past, but my calves ain't one of them.
I'm not used to this injury thing. And it's bumming me out big time.
As you know from yesterday's post, I've been off the training tip since last Tuesday and I've been careful with my left calf pull in the interim. Lots of icing and anti inflams going on. Like over two weeks of this process going on. Lots of homely, but "practical" flats replacing my normal heels. Lots of stretching. Lots and lots.
So, last night it was time to give her a spin out on the running trail and see how much progress we've made.
What...did I run backwards??
I did make it farther than last week's 15 minute/1 mile jog down the street -- that's the good news. This time I made it about 2 miles before cramping set in. And lots of it. I iced like a fiend when I got home and took 2 Aleve and elevated and STILL had some serious residual tightness and pain.
Let me repeat...
Have you ever felt like your body is working AGAINST you?? Like it has a totally different agenda and is intent on making sure YOU don't get to meet your goals!?!?!
Um...yeah, CAUSE I DO!!!
Thankfully, tonight I get to bang some miles out on the bike. The bike -- thankfully -- doesn't produce this same horrible, ridiculous, utterly frustrating pain. The bike, for now, will be my friend.
BFF. The bike and me. B.F.F.
And the pool. We've always been pals, but we're going to see a great deal more of each other now adays.
Now...I'm going to grab some coffee and take a look at my health plan. Possibly a physical therapist in on my horizon? Hmmm? Ya think?
Oh, and as a little addendum to this story, there was a true IronSherpa moment last night. After finding me curled up in bed and crying about my misfortune with my calf and listening to me blubber about how all my (imaginary internet) friends were out there PR'ing races and doing 13 mile training runs, Might M snuck out of the house by the basement door and went to get me an emergency pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream at the Wawa, which he thoughtfully delivered (with spoon) to me in my pissed-on-petunia repose in bed and shared in my pitty-party with a pint of peanut butter cup of his very own.
Not only does it show how mighty Mighty M can be, it also apparently shows that I can write really, really long sentences.