No, this isn't a sequel to "My Left Foot". I will not be talking about an artist who is mostly paralyzed but can miraculously play guitar.
I walked instead of running yesterday for my 37 minutes. On my way up to Valley High School my knee started hurting. I blew it off and kept going because I live by the expression, "Walk it off". It got a little better and I stared down the Valley track.
When I was in high school, I couldn't run all of the way around it. I would pant, bitch, moan and inevitably slow to a walk (almost crawl) while thinking my heart could probably explode at 17. So, on the way to the school, which was really about making a loop past it and heading back to the gym, I decided the track and I were going to come to terms.
I approached the blacktop and it looked as daunting as ever, amazing the tricks the mind plays. I took lane 8 - the outside lane - and started in earnest. The track yawned out in front of me like a big black tiger that would rather consume me than let me run. I started running harder, I have no idea why. I finished the 1/4 mile-lap in 2:20. Not bad. That fat high school girl has retired.
Anyway, the knee. I had to walk harder to cover the same distance back to the club. By the time I got back I knew my knee was cranky, but today it's out-right pissed off.
This is the knee I had to have rebuilt 10 years ago (all original parts) after an idiot ran through me rather than around when playing softball. (He was out so HA!) With that knowledge, I have a theory - the warranty is up on the reconstruction. If this persists, as it has on and off for months, I will have to call the doc. For now, I am going home to fry my core.
Yours in fitness, Kate
P.S. - the 37 Workout went great yesterday and trainer Traci thought it was a great idea.