Puddles of Sweat

As opposed to puddles of mudd

No, we’re talking about puddles of sweat. Why are we talking about puddles of sweat? Because I’m living off of puddles of sweat at the moment.

Sometimes there’s just a lot going on in the world, and you need to cope. There are lots of ways to cope. Exercise just happens to be one of the more socially accepted varieties (I’d try meth, but I’m pretty sure that won’t get as many likes on Instagram).

I’m moving in a couple of months. I’ll be starting a new job in a new town and dealing with all the natural stressors that come along with it. And I work in a career that can be just as stressful as you want it to be.

Coping means creating puddles of sweat.

I’ve been creating puddles of sweat for a long time now. I started doing sports when I was 5. I wasn’t very good (re: I was downright bad), but I was active. I was a kid who played a lot of video games and read a lot of books, but I was also a kid who spent a lot of time on football fields and basketball courts. As I got older, I spent more time being active and less time on video games (books never went away, though. I even have a handy dandy 2nd blog documenting that habit).

While I was running around as a kid, I didn’t pay much attention to the puddles of sweat. As a teenager, I started paying more attention. One was vanity. 9 times out of 10, being a sweaty mess isn’t how you get a cute girl’s attention in high school. Two was pride. I started seeing a sweat-soaked shirt as a badge of honor. Something I earned the hard way.

This came about from the weight room. You’d have the entire varsity and JV football teams in one weight room lifting a lot and lifting fast. There were days my entire shirt was soaked just from lifting. I couldn’t pull that off if I tried these days (and if I did pull it off, I’d probably be asked not to return to that gym any more, please sir).

But that’s where it started. There was this masochistic urge to feel completely worn out and broken down. That was when you knew the workout was good.

As I got into college, the puddles of sweat largely went away. When I lifted, I was going for strength, not cardio. It was a good workout, one that would often leave me barely able to move, but there wasn’t much in the way of sweat. Unless I ran. When I run, I pour out sweat like a faucet. A stinky faucet.

I probably didn’t start appreciating my puddles of sweat again until I was working on my Ph.D. (did I mention I’m a fake doctor?). I worked on my degree in Florida, which is basically like hanging out in a sauna that has gators nearby.

Running was an easy way to achieve sweaty mess status. I finally soaked shirts all the way through for the first time since high school. But this barely counts. I was running outside in Florida summers (basically March to October). It was earned, but it wasn’t the same as doing it in a weight room.

But you know what does feel the same? Yoga.

I started doing yoga in ’09 to kill time and mitigate back pain. This was just at home in my living room to keep from being an embarrassment in a class. I can’t remember when I first pulled it off, but as I was able to progress in the book I used, I was doing a more vigorous workout. Eventually I was soaked in sweat to a point that my mat was slick and a little dangerous to use for some poses.

And there was pride. So much pride.

In an air conditioned apartment doing what seemed like glorified stretching, I was pushing myself to a point where I was indecently sweating. That was something.

Eventually, I realized I liked being exhausted. Even later, I realized I was craving the exhaustion. There are a whole host of things wrong with that, but the fringe benefit is that you have to work out to get that particular type of exhaustion.

As for the host of things that are problematic, this isn’t the only thing I treat this way. I like to dive into things. I dive into work. I dive into books. I dive into songwriting. I dive into cleaning. I dive into interactions with people (on more than one occasion, I’ve had 2-hour conversations with people I just met). It’s addictive behavior. Addictive tendencies lead to being on reality shows hosted by Dr. Drew. I recognize that about myself.

The real trick is to take that inner addict and channel him toward something useful. It doesn’t always work, but when I get addicted to workouts, at least I’m doing something good for me and probably not being a jerk to the people around me.

But let’s get back to those puddles of sweat. That terminology comes from this video (that I watch entirely too often when I need some inspiration):

The video spoke to me. I understood the benefits of exercise in moments when you weren’t especially happy with yourself or the world around you. I understood the puddles of sweat. I understood how those puddles of sweat could help you function. I understood how those puddles of sweat could help you sleep.

With my knee being an asshole, I had to do without my puddles of sweat for a couple of months, and it about drove me insane.

Physical therapy wasn’t just me getting the chance to help my knee. This was also the window I needed to help my brain. I don’t sit still well. I crave puddles of sweat.

All in all, the past few weeks have been pretty good to me. I was able to stay active between PT and yoga (I was inching toward 5 days of workouts a week at one point). Unfortunately, my favorite yoga teacher stopped teaching classes temporarily and PT ended.

I was dealing with a puddles of sweat problem.

Finally, I couldn’t stand it any more. I did the ashtanga workout (mostly) on my own at home. I kept the AC turned up to the I’m-not-home level of mid-80s. I set up shop in my living room, and I went after it. It was about as good as I could hope for.

The next day, I tried to do the ashtanga warmup and actually had my arms give out near the end. Not a win for that day, but at least we know the day before did its job.

A few days later, I was able to go after the full workout again. This time was even better. I think I’d left the thermostat up a little higher. I was dripping sweat.

And the next day (today), what did I do? I went to a heated yoga class. My knee was doing ok, so I took the risk of class with a new teacher when I was still tired from the day before.

It was brutal and it was worth it. Again, so much sweat dropping onto the mat and onto the floor. I earned that sweat. That sweat is currency for sleep and you have to get it as many days as you can manage.

This isn’t the first time I’ve talked about the masochistic therapy of working out before, but sometimes you have to revisit the old topics. If you want another take on this instead of the video or this post, The Oatmeal has a fantastic comic that is well worth your time.

But that’s it from me. I’m going to recuperate from making puddles of sweat and hope my knee likes me enough to do it all over again tomorrow.

Adventures in Physical Therapy

On Friday, I completed my last day of physical therapy. I’m not magically cured, and I probably won’t be in running shape for a long time (if ever without surgery), but I’m getting around just fine, so we’ll call a win a win.

Let’s start with the basics: Physical therapy is where you go when you don’t want to or can’t have surgery. It’s also the place you go after surgery. All of this so you can get better.

This isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve done PT before. I had a chest injury three and a half years ago, and I finally decided to do something about my back last year.

I’ve played this game before, but each round has its own quirks, so I wanted to dive in a bit.

What stayed the same?

The biggest thing is the focus on getting to muscles you’re not used to getting. When I was dealing with the chest injury, I was trying to pull my shoulders back, so there were a lot of pulling exercises that got behind my shoulder blade in a way I wasn’t used to (I actually got nauseous the first day). And that trend continued. This time I was hitting my glutes and hips in weird ways (more on the actual exercises later).

Next, there was the assumption I’d do the exercises on my own. That lasted a full week here. The problem was (kind of) yoga (ok, the problem was me being lazy). The idea is they’re little exercises you can do on your own, and long-term, that’s what you’ll have to do.

And finally, I got a new band.

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The first time I did PT, I got a yellow band. I was SO psyched they gave me a free thing (never mind I was paying for said free thing). Eventually, I got blue and black. This time, I didn’t get a band in the beginning. I was actually let down, but I already had three at home. But on the last day, they saved me and gave me a red one. Now I just need green.

I wonder if these colors are universal?

What changed?

The big difference was the clinic itself. Before, I’d done PT on campus. The first PT group I was with had a regular clinic off campus I went to once, but they were across the street from my office on campus in a smaller setup once a week, so that was a no brainer. This is the first time I’d been in a clinic. It was interesting. There was equipment everywhere (awesome) and people too (not awesome, especially when you’re doing stupid human tricks).

The people make up the next point. In a bigger clinic, there’s a bigger staff. Even when I’m only working with one person, there are 4-5 other PTs going, usually a similar number of PTAs. We’re in a bigger room but not that much bigger. There are also the staffers who handle the clerical work. I was used to the first place where there was a PT and a PT student. That’s it. Having so many people around meant you weren’t going to lack for access to people, but it also meant there was always someone who could see if you messed up (Exhibit A: on the penultimate day, I almost ate it trying to get an exercise band off my legs. And that’s how a conversation with a PT I’ve never talked to got started). I actually worked with two PTs and two PTAs. Never knew who I would see day to day.

Frequency of visits was the other big adjustment. I went three times a week for six weeks. I was used to weekly appointments. That was a much bigger time commitment, especially when I was having to drive 15 minutes (and more when they upped the intensity and I had to start going home to shower). The plus was I was basically forced into three workouts a week. There are worse things than exercising three times a week (plus 1-2 more when I was able to get into the yoga studio).

The last difference was the exercises themselves. But let’s give that a full section.

So what were you doing?

I was doing all the things.

The one consistent thing was a warmup. It started with an exercise bike, which actually hurt my left knee the first couple of times. Then they moved me to an elliptical. I hate ellipticals (and irony dictates that was one of the main final recommendations for me to do on my own).

This was sufficient to get me warm and make me a little self-conscious about returning to work without showering. Just not self-conscious enough.

Then the real work began. The real work changed a lot.

At first, it was just weird little exercises. One where I was bending my knee like was taking a step down. This progressed to standing on an actual step. And then a slightly bigger step.

Another that was an extremely abbreviate pistol squat. As I got that down, they had me dipping lower. It doesn’t sound like much, but 25 half squats on one leg get tiring.

One where I bent forward with one leg on the ground and one rising up like I was picking up a golf ball (or a screwy-looking warrior III from yoga). The weird part is they had me progress to an easier version of this for the longest time where I didn’t reach down as far. And then they added weight the last day. That fried my hammies.

I hated it the first day, but after that my favorite activity was the BOSU ball.

The first day was the wobbles. The wobbles make you feel like you’re about to be pitched off. I never got pitched off by a horse, but I was in danger of being pitched off by a piece of plastic. After that, I was a champ. The wobbles went away, and I could own that junk.

And then they had me balance on one foot. This wasn’t as bad as the first day, but when they stick you on the round side and say stand on one foot, you don’t necessarily think, “This will end well.”

The last week, I moved to using the leg press and a machine that was like an assisted jumping machine. Google tells me it was a shuttle machine. Basically, you lie down and then jump. It’s weird.

And then the core stuff. I hate the core stuff.

The core stuff was just 5-second planks for 20 rounds and then a side plank variation that consisted of me moving my leg forward and backward. That sound you heard was my glute/hip area experiencing post-traumatic stress. Eventually core got upped to doing side plank raise (or dying mermaid, as the PTA called it). That was brutal. Then another one that was a plank where I just touched alternating shoulders with alternating hands.

And finally, there was running. The last 4 weeks involved some running. Remember how I wouldn’t shower? That stopped the second they put me on the treadmill. One day, I was sweating so bad, I had to ask for a towel. I got a towel every day after that. And water.

Ultimately, I was in PT so I could run. My day-to-day life was returning to normal, but I want to be able to run (bet you never thought I’d say that with this blog title).

This is when the knee pain started to return. I wasn’t used to running, and my body couldn’t take it at first.

It wasn’t just my knee. My feet and ankles were also unappreciative of the endeavor. The first day was in cross-trainers. That was the last day for the cross-trainers. I moved to running shoes after that. Slowly (oh so slowly), the running got better and knee pain dissipated but didn’t fully go away. The way I put it to the PT was if I was running a race, I’d keep going, but if I was just on a run, I would stop. This never really got upped in the four weeks; I just got mildly better about the little they gave me.

They also gave me an extended warmup routine that will make me look like a goober if I ever do it in public.

But what about yoga and PT?

I’m glad you (didn’t actually) ask. Yoga will make you look like a champ at PT.

For real, do yoga, and then go to PT. They have you do planks and weird little exercises. If you know both, then you know I’m talking about both. The best was the BOSU ball. Aside from the first-day wobbles, I could keep pretty still, enough so to get attention from people working there who weren’t actually working with me.

That will be the extent I brag about being a PT champ.

All in all

I’d call it a 65-70% win. I’m not running yet and probably won’t for quite a while, but I got a lot of good exercises I can do on my own, and my range of motion and flexibility got a lot better over the period of PT.

Hopefully I can maintain where I’m at and maybe make a little progress as I move out of state, but you’ll just have to stay tuned.

Let’s Talk About Recovery

As I slowly return to the world of the normal, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to maintenance. I try to do a lot for maintenance. Take away my knee, and I’m trying to do even more.

Why do we do recovery? 1) It feels good. 2) It (might) help. I say might because some of these aren’t necessarily proven to work so much as make you feel better, which then might help. The science of recovery is weird.

This episode of The Runner’s World Show actually delves into a business in Chicago (The Edge Athlete Lounge) that focuses on recovery. It’s like a regular gym, but they add in a heavy emphasis on recovery at $125 a month lowest cost (we won’t go into how this inherently caters to the wealthy who already have more access to recovery sources than middle-to-low-income folks).

But me? I can’t afford that. Ok, I might be able to afford that, but I’m not paying and I don’t live in Chicago.

I have to make other arrangements.

So I foam roll – This takes an astonishingly short amount of time, it’s the only thing that lets me function the day after a hard workout, and I just don’t do it often enough. But when I do? Oof. It’s magic.

I stretch – This may be the most consistent thing I keep getting recommended. In a bygone age, I could stand on 45-pound bumper plates and touch the ground. Now, I can barely touch my toes, and that’s an improvement. Between my back, knee, and chest, I’m supposed to stretch out pretty everything from head to toe. I need to start getting compulsive about stretching. As it is, my muscles, especially my legs, are loaded springs.

I yoga (uncomfortable stretching plus some strength) – This doesn’t have the same magic for recovery as a foam roller, but it’s the most important thing I do to remain functional long-term. You can only imagine the betrayal I felt when not only was my knee keeping me away from yoga but there’s a chance that yoga did me in. I couldn’t stay away. For my day-to-day life, this is the best thing I can do, so even if I’m limited, I’m going to find a way.

And I sleep – This one’s my favorite. I like my 8 hours at night. I’d like 9 even better. I like my naps. I like to eat breakfast, and then go right back to sleep for another hour or so. I like to curl up in my blankets in the winter in a quilted cocoon. I like to throw an exercise mat on the ground and get my afternoon nap. And why do I like sleep? Because my body craves it. That’s when I recover. No stress, no activity. Just sleep. Just rest. And you know what? I think I’ll sleep again tonight. I’ll probably sleep again tomorrow. Something to look forward to.

What do you do for recovery?

Injury Update & Return to Yoga

When we last left our hero, he had found indications of bipartite patella or kneecap fracture and was anxiously awaiting the results of his MRI.

Setting: Mississippi in the late teens. Our protagonist is sitting on his couch in a knee brace and typing on a computer. The air conditioner is running because of course it is. Light indie music plays in the background.

Scene:

The MRI came back with no real bad issues. There was some fluid, but nothing was out of place beyond what the X-Rays’ already showed. The recommendation was surgery (both options didn’t sound pleasant, even for surgery). I of course chickened out and asked to try physical therapy first. Low risk but low probability of success. But no knife. Doc OK’d it, so I got sent to their PT staff to get a knee brace and then set up my PT appointment in my own town.

Here’s the thing about the knee brace: He didn’t tell me why I needed it when I was pretty much ok moving around. I ended up asking the PT and didn’t get that clear of an answer. Basically it sounds like if I’m walking around on uneven ground (i.e., hiking) I should wear it. I’m not hiking.

But I have the knee brace, and I had my first PT appointment today. It was fun. Got some normal stretches and then a couple of weird exercises, and then they zapped my leg for 15 minutes. I got to do some light reading. All good.

Then I got to the realness: Could I start doing yoga again? The doc was hesitant. He wanted me to ease into it. I wanted no such thing. I did a round of the warm-up for Ashtanga and survived. That was the hard part, so I thought asking couldn’t hurt.

And the PT gave me the ok.

As long as I didn’t do anything stupid, I was allowed to do it. Benefit outweighed the risk to him. Awesome dude. Also awesome that he was OK with me not wearing the knee brace as a default since I was already on the mend.

And how long did I wait to go to yoga? Almost 10 hours.

I’ve been going half insane the past few weeks. I couldn’t even do planks in the early stage because me knee was hurting that much.

I went to my Ashtanga class prepared to behave and make accommodations. It wasn’t easy, and because I couldn’t really do anything while my knee was hurting, even my upper body was not really in the game. There were some minor twinges, and my yoga teacher watched me like a hawk to make sure I was OK, but everything was all good. I had to sit out a couple of things, but I was able to do something most of the time.

And tomorrow’s going to be rough. Ashtanga is Sanskrit for “this is gonna hurt” (it’s a stupid joke I’ve been making for over a year, but I still love it; related, I made the joke originally in this post from the first time I did the class. It usually shows up on the first page of the Google search when you look for thank you note for yoga teacher. It’s kept a steady flow of traffic to the blog from people sincerely looking to write their yoga teacher a thank you note while I was being snarkily sincere about appreciating an all-over soreness from the workout. I should add a postscript apologizing to the people looking for real advice).

I also have to contend with the weird leg exercises that got muscles I objectively knew were there but rarely feel activated. That’s going to cause some odd soreness, but it’s finally looking up for our hero.

Injury update

This will be a short post. I’m still not running or doing much of anything. I’m now 4 X-rays and an MRI into the process. X-Rays indicated bipartite patella or old kneecap fracture. Fun.

Either way, should know in a few days what the next step is. In the meantime, I’m slowly going insane and my right quad is visibly smaller than my left after 5 weeks of one leg doing all the work. On the bright side, my back is feeling better than normal, so you win somw, you lose some.

I’ll keep you party people posted.

Q and His Treacherous Knee

Or Q and His Knee Jerk Reaction

Or Q and Why Does My Knee Hurt?

This was my weekend a week ago:

Nothing like unexplained knee pain to liven up the weekend #thuglife #thisis30

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And this was me less than a week ago:

My new significant other doesn't cook me dinner but it does keep my knee from hurting (at least for a few minutes). Happy V Day

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There’s a theme here. I’m a week and half into unexplained knee pain. I know what’s happening (tendonitis), but I don’t know why (unless we accept that my knee is an a-hole argument).

I spent a week on steroids and that seemed to help, but then I tweaked it on day 5 of steroids, and three days later, I’m back in the kind of pain I was in before starting the steroids.

With a couple of other things, I’m now two and half weeks removed from my last run, which was just a light jaunt to shake out the post-10K creaks.

My goal was a 10K every other month, and it’s already in jeopardy, and not the cool Ken Jennings kind.

If I go after the race I’m targeting, I’m looking at basically 5 weeks to go from 0 to 10K.

That’s probably not going to happen.

This is going to be an interesting year.

-Q

#ihaterunning

First 10K of the year is in the books

1:13:30. I lapped everyone on the couch. I also got lapped by the winner of the half-marathon.

Twice.

Other than that, things went pretty well. I knew I wasn’t going to have a blistering time. The plan was to do a 1:1 run/walk ratio on minute intervals.

Pre-Race

I am vengeance. I am the night. I am, well, you get the idea. #ihaterunning #batman

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Prep for this race was actually more obnoxious than usual because of the temperature. It was supposed to be high 30s to start and mid-40s when I would finish.

This is generally jacket weather for me. My lungs don’t appreciate cold air, and it gets worse if my torso is cold. Because it was in the 30s to start, I figured I would get one of my thicker long-sleeve shirts. And then I couldn’t find it.

I have three thicker shirts. The one I wanted wasn’t in the office, so I knew it was at home. And then I couldn’t find it at home. I really have no idea where that thing is. Luckily, I have a thinner cold-weather shirt that’s ok. With the jacket, I would be fine.

The next worry for me was parking. It was downtown in a relatively small town. If the race was packed, parking could become a problem pretty quickly. There ended up being about 400 people across the three distances running today. I had to leave a bit early to park where I wanted.

Of course, I then got to find out people have no sense of politeness when it comes to parallel parking spots. Two big SUVs decided to park as far forward in their spots as they could and for some unholy reason didn’t pull into the spots the farthest forward, so I got to do an awkward backing in to get my spot. It was fine, but it was obnoxious parking. Of course, they were Ole Miss and Bama fans, so I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything better from them.

Now for a pet peeve of mine. Pretty much every race I go to says to bring ID to pick up your packet. I think the only time I’ve actually shown ID to get my packet was Disney (and I’m not even sure if I actually showed ID). They say it and never ask for ID when you actually show up. Luckily, I’ve stopped bringing my ID along to the booths. I figure if it ever gets asked for, I’ll tell them to Google my name. Perks of having a weird name. The only person who shows up in the results is me.

Other than that, not much was atypical about the setup. You have the usual lacking number of port-a-potties. You have loud music. You’ve got people who didn’t know there was a race going on trying to go about their usual Saturday routine as runners are crawling all over the place with nervous energy.

I just basked in the sun waiting for the race to start. And then I got hot. Uh oh.

If I was hot standing in the sun, this wasn’t going to bode well for running. I was honestly afraid I was going to be a little on the cold side to start because I had on the thinner long-sleeve shirt underneath. Now I was about to ditch my jacket and was again having to worry about being cold in just two shirts because 6.2 miles of overheating wasn’t about to happen.

Luckily, my Batman shirt was a tight fit, so it helped trap heat in and acted as an extra buffer for the wind.

Unluckily, I hadn’t brought my arm band, and I didn’t trust myself to hold my phone for 6.2 miles. I was going sans music (well, podcast. I was going to listen to a Nerdist episode during my fat kid shuffle).

The rest of my attire was fine. I wear the same cap in the heat and the cold. Of my two viable pairs of running shoes (I have Adidas that are in good shape, but a foot injury rules them out for now), I only race in my Asics, so there was never a debate there. I also had a new pair of Goodr sunglasses to wear for the race.

I was in the red-framed glasses. It’s hard to tell in the picture, but they are the most obnoxious color scheme: blue lenses, red frames, and yellow ear pieces. I thought I’d never wear them (they came bundled with the other two I got in the Kickstarter). And then I realized the obnoxious color scheme went well with the obnoxiously colored shirts I wear to avoid getting hit by cars. Turns out the pair I looked forward to the least are going to be my priority pair for running.

I was dressed for success and ready to gol

The halfers took off, and then the 10K and 5K runners lined up together.

Now all I had to do was run. And then walk. And then run. And then walk. Etc.

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Actual Race

As usual, some walkers made their way to the front. I’m starting to think they can’t help themselves. If this was a track meet, someone would spike them in the back of their legs.

I hung out in back because I knew I wasn’t going to finish in front of many people. I had to let myself run longer in the beginning than I intended just because of the mess of walkers around. I don’t dislike walkers, but when they start in the middle and front, they’re an obstruction. Think of the person hanging out in the left lane in traffic who isn’t passing the car on the right. That’s what they’re doing.

The weather was beautiful, though I wasn’t quite dressed correctly. I really did need a little bit thicker shirt. I was ok, but not 100% comfortable to start. Luckily, the day came to me. Unfortunately, my hands weren’t in great shape. I don’t wear gloves when I run, and my hands stay cold naturally, so they got stiff pretty fast. It’s not like I needed to compose a letter, but it’s never fun to basically have your hands become useless for the better part of an hour.

I don’t have any über-weird stories to tell about the other runners. I had my typical crowd that I would yo-yo with. At least they were also alternating between running and walking. The only mildly interesting stories come past the halfway point. One runner turned to ask if I was dying too. I think they were feeling social. Or maybe they’d never seen the dark knight in person before. Who knows.

The other interesting thing was someone who kept yelling in frustration. I’ve done a fair amount of races now (21 is my best guess), and this is the first time I’ve had that happen. I think they were in that “I’m exhausted and going on fumes” mode. The last time I remember hearing people do that was during football workouts. Usually these were the people who didn’t really want to play football and were there because someone made them be there. I hope that wasn’t the case. It sounded like someone was running with them and encouraging them, but this is kind of a dangerous game to play. I’m not fond of running, but I don’t feel the need to yell. If they do, maybe they’d be better off with a different hobby. Again, I don’t know what was going on. I just know it was weird.

The running and walking went fairly well. I knew I couldn’t put together a blistering pace. I was vaguely optimistic that I’d be feeling good at the end and could extend my running segments.

That did not happen.

It wasn’t a brutal course by any means, but there were a good amount of climbs to make. These were mostly halfway and later, so they gassed me pretty good. But I did survive. My lungs went first because that’s what they do, but my legs were dead by the end too.

And to pour salt on the wounds, there was a steady climb to finish the race. You never notice the grade of a road until you’re actually running it. I always thought of it as a fairly level stretch until today. This is also when the half winner flew past me for the second time.

But I finished and I high-fived a couple of cows. All in all, it could have gone worse.

Post-Race

There’s not much to say post-race. For once I finished in a weird spot where there wasn’t a mess of people at the end. Only one half-marathoner had finished. All of the 5K runners were done. And I was far enough back in the 10K that there weren’t many of them left either.

I snagged a couple of slices of pizza before walking around as my inadequate cool-down. I then went to my car to switch to a dry shirt and get my watered-down bottle of Gatorade. Of course, I had to get two more slices of pizza before I left, so I went back to the finish line for that. A few coworkers were running other races and I vaguely thought of sticking around, but then I realized I wanted to continue making bad decisions more than I wanted to hang out in the wind with sweat salt caking my face.

The bingeing continued with a some Sonic: 5-piece chicken strip meal, with tater tots, toast, an onion ring, and Coke. I left two pieces of chicken behind for later and ate the rest. After all this mess, I had gained 2 pounds compared to my pre-10K weight.

I really am good at turning good decisions into terrible mistakes.

At least I had enough sense to foam roll after I ate. I’m also icing my knee as I type to prevent further problems.

The aftermath. #ihaterunning

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But that’s all I have for you, party people. I’ve got 5 more of these to go for the year, and I have no idea when any of them will be yet. I’m hoping for every other month, but I haven’t locked into a March race yet.

-Q

#ihaterunning