Today, a hit received for:
“butter sculpture julie threlkeld”
Okay, now my secret’s out: I’ve been quietly honing my skills as a sculptress of dairy products.
Sunday October 31st will mark 12 weeks since my injury occurred. I am a lot better now. No pain in the glute/hip/hamstring. I still have issues with my right adductor, but I’ve been applying Voltaren (gel) for the last couple of days and it’s clearing up nicely. This morning I could put on below-the-waist clothing items (Matt, this is for you: undergarments!) without having to sit down or lean against something for the first time in close to a month.
Tomorrow it’s going to be 50F at daybreak. Now that I have no pain, it’s so tempting to go out and try a run. But I won’t. I’ll wait until Hallowe’en and even then I won’t try it outside, much as I’d love to commemorate the holiday with a run in Sleepy Hollow. Running someplace nice is too much of a letdown if it doesn’t work out. No, the plan is to try a few laps at my gym’s indoor track — a 12 laps to the mile paperclip featuring 90 degree turns. It’s a horrible place to run anyway, so if I can’t run there, so what. I’ll try maybe half a mile, tops. Just to see.
Then, if that works, I’ll try again — again, inside. I’m not going to run outside until I’m sure I can actually run for more than 10-15 minutes without pain or an altered stride.
I’m dreaming of doing a pain-free two mile run to just beyond Crestwood Station and back. That’s all I want now. It’s what I think about every day while I’m in that stupid pool. Just give me two miles by mid-November. I’m really not asking for so much.
Sorry for the noun train.
In this story, I think there are two big lessons to be learned:
Thanks, Graham, for sending this one along.