Monday, May 16, 2011


So, when my physical therapist said it would be okay to run a 5k... he meant in the context of our conversation where I said, "I should be okay to run the 5k at the end of my mini-triathlon in June, if everything goes well in therapy, right?"


And I interpreted this as, "Go out and run a 5k this weekend."

I tried to stress that after a half marathon, a 5k seemed like a short training run. He gave me a stop whining, and I know you're smarter than that look.

Halfway through our session today, I said. "So besides the icing and the stretching and the massage and the splint there's not much else I can do?"


"This sucks."


"I hate patience."

"Well, you're going to need it."

But the visits are a lot more humane than when I hurt my back.

Poor me. I have a warm end of a flat round thing that sends soundwaves into my foot massaged over the injured fascia before having a 15-20 minute foot massage, where I ooh and ahh, and things in my foot crunch around until they work themselves out like dominoes falling. Then there's the stretching. And then I get iced. It's really quite a lovely 45 minutes -- right now.

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