This is not an unfamiliar injury for me, I admit it. I started having back problems when I was thirteen, when I stopped playing Atari and joined cross country, wrestling, and basketball during their respective seasons. I'll have to direct you to my chiropractor for more specific details about what was wrong with my back, but I can say that by the time I got through high school, I was generally used to having some sort of ache going on above my ass and below my crown (the crown of my hair, of course, my real crown has not yet arrived in the mail, even to this day).
I quit those sports and snowboarded for a year. I quit that and worked at the mill. I started writing poetry at a cramped antique desk underneath a heavy duty word processor. I worked for a mason. I worked at another steel mill. I did other things. All the while, some sort of ache -- at times more serious than others.
I only mean to say, by all this, that my back is not so terribly bad this week, but it's showing potential to be much worse. I have the luxury of taking a few days off or a week off without destroying my training entirely, and I am taking advantage of that, but pain is embarrassing. Especially pain that has no outward and physical proof.
My back feels better every day, even though I continue to do stupid things like pick up my daughter when she falls asleep on the couch, and (though I could easily set her on the hardwood floor and push her to her room and roll her into her bed) I carry her around and tuck her in (though, again, I could easily just drop a whole bunch of towels and stuffed animals on her -- I mean the house is already pretty warm).
I suppose this is one of the most frustrating feelings for anybody who's injured -- the ways in which the injury affects not only our athletic pursuits, but also our day-to-day activities. It's lame, and I hate not being able to do the things I'm supposed to do like beat the kids at ping pong. They deserve that from me, don't they? At least if I had crutches, they might feel a little more like I'm injured and not just worried that one day soon they will be better than I at ping pong.
Still, a friend did rescue me from my continuing self pity by insisting that I go for a walk with him yesterday. I realized that the brisk walk did not aggravate my back the way a run would, so I'm going to have to start figuring out some reasons why I can't go for walks until my back is better or else I'm going to look foolish in retrospect.
Thursday: -----
Friday: 4.0
Saturday: 4.0
Sunday: 9.9
Monday: 4.0
Tuesday: 4.0
Wednesday: -----
Thursday: -----
Friday: -----
Saturday: -----
Sunday: -----
Monday: -----
Previous:172.5 miles
Year To Date: 172.5miles.
Running Days: 31
Days off: 13
Ugh, and that eleven-day tally was so beautiful just a week ago.
I quit those sports and snowboarded for a year. I quit that and worked at the mill. I started writing poetry at a cramped antique desk underneath a heavy duty word processor. I worked for a mason. I worked at another steel mill. I did other things. All the while, some sort of ache -- at times more serious than others.
I only mean to say, by all this, that my back is not so terribly bad this week, but it's showing potential to be much worse. I have the luxury of taking a few days off or a week off without destroying my training entirely, and I am taking advantage of that, but pain is embarrassing. Especially pain that has no outward and physical proof.
My back feels better every day, even though I continue to do stupid things like pick up my daughter when she falls asleep on the couch, and (though I could easily set her on the hardwood floor and push her to her room and roll her into her bed) I carry her around and tuck her in (though, again, I could easily just drop a whole bunch of towels and stuffed animals on her -- I mean the house is already pretty warm).
I suppose this is one of the most frustrating feelings for anybody who's injured -- the ways in which the injury affects not only our athletic pursuits, but also our day-to-day activities. It's lame, and I hate not being able to do the things I'm supposed to do like beat the kids at ping pong. They deserve that from me, don't they? At least if I had crutches, they might feel a little more like I'm injured and not just worried that one day soon they will be better than I at ping pong.
Still, a friend did rescue me from my continuing self pity by insisting that I go for a walk with him yesterday. I realized that the brisk walk did not aggravate my back the way a run would, so I'm going to have to start figuring out some reasons why I can't go for walks until my back is better or else I'm going to look foolish in retrospect.
Eleven Day Tally
Thursday: -----
Friday: 4.0
Saturday: 4.0
Sunday: 9.9
Monday: 4.0
Tuesday: 4.0
Wednesday: -----
Thursday: -----
Friday: -----
Saturday: -----
Sunday: -----
Monday: -----
Previous:172.5 miles
Year To Date: 172.5miles.
Running Days: 31
Days off: 13
Ugh, and that eleven-day tally was so beautiful just a week ago.
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