Of course, being me, it was not caused by running.
For some time I've been visiting a physio due to an old injury in my adductor muscle which was long healed, but has been highlighted by the running. (This was caused by someone turning me round on a dance floor at a wedding whilst my shoe remained glued to the floor - there was a crunching sound, a trickling sensation in the hip joint and a few weeks of limping after which it seemed fine.) Since hitting 30 minute runs I had been having odd feelings like lightning travelling down the nerves on the inner thigh to mid-calf - but only when sitting down. Physio ameliorated the sensation to more of a fizzing down the nerve and it is slowly becoming position specific instead of happening in any seated position, so things are improving . However, my physio guy has found knots which he unwinds by leaning his elbow on them until I stop screaming and then leaning a bit harder. He has not stopped me running during this treatment as the issue relates in only to sitting, but some days I delay or miss a run due to feelings of bruising where he has been working, and last session he was focussing quite a bit on my knee.
Roll on last Tuesday. My husband and I went to Stratford-upon-Avon to stay in the hotel where we honeymooned 4 years earlier (the Church Street Town House), to see a play at the Swan Theatre ("Love for Love" - William Congreve, 1695), and had booked to have dinner at the restaurant in the hotel on the first night (- it turned out to be T-bone Tuesday, share a 30 ounce T-bone between you and have a free bottle of wine - oops!). We are both enormous people with appetites that demonstrate why we are enormous. We ate a ridiculously huge amount and then crawled up to our lovely shabby chic room with the magical refilling port decanter and lay fully clothed on the kingsized bed groaning. Douglas , as is his way then made some very bad puns, very bad puns indeed, and so I threatened him that if he didn't stop I'd climb on top of his dinner filled stomach and bounce up and down. (At least he no longer quotes limericks to me as a warm-up to our conjugals.) He said (in a condescending tone) he doubted I'd be able to considering what we'd eaten - then he said those fatal words "I bet you can't".
There was no choice. It was now a matter of honour. I lumbered to my hands and knees, twisted into an appropriate position and swung my leg across his girth. I bounced a few times to prove the point and then dismounted smugly as he gasped for breath. And then we moved about the room getting ready for bed and slept like 2 boa constrictors that had each eaten an elephant.
The next morning my knee wouldn't take my weight comfortably. I was limping, taking stairs one at a time, making occasional whimpering squeaks when I stepped in an unfortunate manner. We went for a walk along the canal hoping I could walk it out. This was not to be. By the end of the day, Douglas was walking 20 steps and then waiting for me to catch up as I limped and shuffled gracelessly back from the theatre, and every step was 10 times more painful than they had been that morning. No so smug, now.
I have been resting it and it has improved by - I was going to say "leaps and bounds", but that is precisely NOT what I have been doing to improve it. I am going for my first decent walk this afternoon or tomorrow and hope to be back running by Wednesday.
I would say, that'll teach me, but I suspect it won't! Happy running everyone.
First 5k run after injury...
My first post graduate run 🍁🍂
My first incomplete run, feel like crying.
My first run today- wish me luck W1R1
