I had been feeling guilty at not doing a bit more running in the last couple of weeks, mainly due to our weekend away skiing which always leaves me scrambling the following week to keep body and soul together. And this weekend I decided to bump staining our TV cabinet right to the top of my list, meaning that running fell off the bottom.
So this morning when I lugged myself out of bed at 0-dark-hundred, I expected to find it hard work and slow going. What I didn't expect, after a measly three miles, was serious knee pain. Considering I hadn't run for nearly two weeks, and certainly didn't do anything dramatic to my knees while skiing slowly down Northstar's blue routes, I was surprised and alarmed to discover that 30 minutes was my limit.
It's exactly four months since I first became conscious of my right knee being a problem while running. Since then I've gone really easy on it, have bought it special gear, and even, for a short while, started drinking a pretty purple liquid. But it seems to have become worse, not better. I'm wondering now if a marathon is a totally crazy aim, and even whether I'll ever do another half. I may have to get over my British-ness* and go in search of medical advice.
*We don't really like to see a Doctor until something turns green and drops off - that's pretty much how our health care system holds together :)
Meantime, once again I need to re-assess my fitness goals and seek alternative ways of staying vaguely in shape - or at least finding something to stop the pounds piling on. The good news is that spring is here, and Beloved Husband has been muttering about all kinds of wheeled and water-born outings. I may yet have to re-title this blog Crazy Sports I Tried, to Keep My Hubby Happy.
Photo via: the Reputation Doctor
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