Walk it Off

Day Five

I’m from the school of thought that you should walk things off. Got a paper cut while collating and filing? Walk it off. Got a cramp from playing street hockey? Princess, walk it off. Someone’s comment about your work cut a little too deeply? Sweetheart, walk it off. Some ho-bag flirted with and stole your boyfriend/husband? Walk it…no…break into that woman’s house and fill her curtain rods with old shrimp. But, that slice on your hand from the jagged edges of the broken window? Bitch, walk it off.

That didn’t turn out so well for me a few years ago. Today, apparently, is National Running Day, and I am reminded yet again why I don’t run. One day while running (well, jogging, really), I got a bad pain in the middle of my butt. I walked it off. Then, a while later, my knee started to hurt. I walked it off. Finally, I was waking up repeatedly throughout the night with odd cramps in my left leg. I went to the doctor praying that I didn’t have Restless Leg Syndrome or Chronic Fatigue Syndrome or Fibromyalgia. I have enough trouble coming to terms with the fact that I am mildly lactose intolerant. That’s quite enough for me.

As it turns out, I had pulled my IT band. And, lord have mercy, the pain on the side of my thigh was brutal. It was, and remains, much like a bad bruise. My doctor took one look at my birth date and my fat ass and recommended I stop running until I get some physical therapy. I went to physical therapy, hated it, and now I walk for exercise rather than run. But I never, ever walk it off.

No walking, but plenty of pretty-ing

I did not walk, run, kick, or jog today. I did not wake up early and hop on the elliptical. I did not hike at lunchtime as I had intended. I had dinner plans after work, so...come on... I couldn’t possibly make the time. First, I had to walk the dog—and, by walk, I mean, take him to a swimming hole with husband and wander slowly about while dog retrieved ball. Then, I had to attend that dinner party. In the interest of remaining honest, and this is a painfully honest post in a lot of ways, I ate everything they offered and it was delightful. If local restaurant = local food, then local dinner party = local food. Right? It’s bad logic, but I also convinced myself I didn’t have to get any exercise today. So, I win and I lose.

Wait. Groom went out and hiked for over an hour this morning. Does that count? Don’t answer that.