And I’m cranky.
I haven’t said anything about it for many reasons:
– It got hurt in an embarrassing way;
– I didn’t want to call out my grandma on the blog;
– I figured it would be done hurting by now;
– I didn’t want anyone saying “you shouldn’t be running so much.”
It wasn’t the running that did it.
After the Kentucky Derby miniMarathon, I was sitting on a bench with my dad and grandma (one strong lady). She was eating a funnel cake. The wind blew, and sugar ended up all over my blank pants.
She then proceeded to punch me in the knee! She thought she was lightly tapping my knee, which I guess would shake my pants, hopefully making the sugar shake away. She was not lightly tapping. She was punching me in the knee with a closed fist!
It’s hard to write this story as opposed to say it to you. Usually, when I tell the story, people laugh. They can tell in my inflection that I’m saying it with love (which I am), but that there’s also a layer of annoyance underneath – because my knee hurts!
For the record, I don’t think it’s the running that did it. It only hurts in one knee – right in the area where she punched me.
Generally, I’m getting along fine. It hurts sometimes (especially when I walk a long distance).
I know it’s ridiculous that it still hurts.
I don’t know what she did to me! When we stopped at the store after the Kentucky race, every step was quite painful. The following week in Indiana, my dad was very patient in mile 11, when I asked to slow down for a minute. (I know, after how much I hassled him for not training, I was the one slowing him down!)
My knee is part of the reason I had to go so slowly last week – a very small part of the reason. It was mainly due to lack of sleep, and coming off of 26.2 miles the previous weekend (two half marathons in a row).
This week, I’ve been trying to stay off my knee. I don’t think there’s anything really wrong with it. I think it’s just a little sore, or bruised, or whatever. But I decided to err on the side of caution (and comfort) and just take it easy.
And I am going nuts! I’m not going to pretend to be a really fit person, but I like to exercise a few times a week. This week, not only did I not exercise, but I ate pretty poorly as well. There wasn’t any reason to. I just shut down without exercise, and made poor eating choices.
(The weird part is – ice cream doesn’t even taste as good as yogurt anymore.)
I am amazed at how much exercise makes my life better. Really amazed. When I exercise, my brain works better. I have more energy. I’m nicer to people. My whole world is better when I exercise.
I know science already proves it to be a true fact. It’s not just a fact to me. I feel it. (And my skin! Goodness, gracious, my skin definitely tells a story of whether I’m being good or bad to myself.)
Before anyone starts telling me how I should ride a bike or do the elliptical if my knee hurts… I know. I really appreciate your helpful nature in the imaginary conversation I’m having with you, but I know I had options other than just being completely lazy all week.
(See? I’m a little crabby.)
Sometimes people have weeks when they’re not at their best. This was mine. I don’t have any great excuses. (Excuses rarely are great, anyway.)
(I did go on a one mile run last night ’cause I needed it.)
Originally, I was supposed to do two half marathons this weekend. I’ve opted to just do one.
In other scheduling news, instead of doing my first full marathon in Seattle on June 23rd, I will be doing the Mohican Marathon on June 16th. My family really wanted to be at my first full. It was going to be a trillion dollars (hyperbole) for them to fly to Seattle, so they convinced me to go to them. (They had me when they promised to make posters and bring me granola bars.)
There you have it. I’m sort of (not really at all) injured.
I am looking forward to having a great race in Portland this weekend!