How not to treat an injury
We spent most of Sunday at an intensive Morris dancing workshop: many hours of virtually non-stop dancing, much of it involving jumping and leaping. By the end, my muscles felt like limp spaghetti, and my left calf in particularly was particularly painful and shaky. Sunday was also one of our scheduled running days.
Now, obviously the sensible thing to do would have been to say, "we've done hours of exercise today already and are shattered. Let's not run today." However, Monday wasn't available as an alternative, and I was aware that by the following day, my legs would have stiffened up, and everything would feel even worse. So out we went. In my slight justification, I did at least resolve to abort the whole thing if my calf hurt when running, but it didn't really, not much. The whole run - on paper, a much easier one than the previous one (5 minutes, 8 minutes, 5 minutes) - was HARD, though, and I struggled for breath and struggled to persuade my legs to keep going.
I slept badly, due to sore legs and a left calf that kept on twitching just as I was about to fall asleep. Yesterday I had the day off, and the weather was lovely. I get quite disgruntled and unhappy if I don't go out for a walk on a sunny day off, so I did about 6 miles in the morning, came home for lunch and a reassessment of the state of my legs, then went out for a further 10 in the afternoon - just a fast, flat walk along the seafront and cycle path. I had no problem with my calf, once I'd got over the initial stiffness of the first 20 yards or so.
Last night I had dance practice, and soon discovered that I couldn't even do the easiest, least stenuous of Playford dances (essentially walking, with occasional bobs), let alone anything more vigorous.
Today even walking across the park at lunch time involved hobbling, and today, unlike yesterday, it doesn't get any better once I get into the swing of things.
I doubt I'll be running tonight. I have only myself to blame. There is probably a lesson in here somewhere...
Now, obviously the sensible thing to do would have been to say, "we've done hours of exercise today already and are shattered. Let's not run today." However, Monday wasn't available as an alternative, and I was aware that by the following day, my legs would have stiffened up, and everything would feel even worse. So out we went. In my slight justification, I did at least resolve to abort the whole thing if my calf hurt when running, but it didn't really, not much. The whole run - on paper, a much easier one than the previous one (5 minutes, 8 minutes, 5 minutes) - was HARD, though, and I struggled for breath and struggled to persuade my legs to keep going.
I slept badly, due to sore legs and a left calf that kept on twitching just as I was about to fall asleep. Yesterday I had the day off, and the weather was lovely. I get quite disgruntled and unhappy if I don't go out for a walk on a sunny day off, so I did about 6 miles in the morning, came home for lunch and a reassessment of the state of my legs, then went out for a further 10 in the afternoon - just a fast, flat walk along the seafront and cycle path. I had no problem with my calf, once I'd got over the initial stiffness of the first 20 yards or so.
Last night I had dance practice, and soon discovered that I couldn't even do the easiest, least stenuous of Playford dances (essentially walking, with occasional bobs), let alone anything more vigorous.
Today even walking across the park at lunch time involved hobbling, and today, unlike yesterday, it doesn't get any better once I get into the swing of things.
I doubt I'll be running tonight. I have only myself to blame. There is probably a lesson in here somewhere...