I counted up my progress in marathon training. As of this Saturday, I have completed 226 miles of running/walking/stomping/swaggering. That’s remarkably close to 10 marathons!! I’ve been quite proud of myself for mostly keeping up with my training schedule. Sure, there have been days when I planned to get up early and that… well, the whole “early to rise” thing just didn’t happen. And there were times (on vacation in Orlando, while driving back across the country) when I didn’t prioritize the run. I usually made up for it or successfully rationalized my reasons to forsake running shorts.
But this week was different. I shocked myself by waking up and getting to the gym around 5:30am for my runs, or doing the outdoor trail. So while I can’t say I was stoked to log 15 miles (or 32,492 steps, according to a sweet-tweet from Katie), I at least felt prepared to test my new running shoes. Unfortunately I was only 1.5 miles in when I began to feel a nagging ache in my right hip. I slowed down, tried to stretch, and even pushed on my hip in the hope of squashing the pain. It was not meant to be.
By the time I had completed 2.5 miles at a blisteringly slow pace, it would be fair to say I was very angry at said hip. Each step hurt, and each step on my right side yielded a shot of OUCH up and down my leg. Following the advice of friends who have weathered injuries on their own, I gave in to the pain (and to that little voice that begs me to stop any time I exercise), hung my head, and opted for a hot shower.
What happened? Why was I able to run over 200 miles with no pain, and all of a sudden my hip up and decides to misbehave? I thought about it, and I have a few explanations. First, I stopped doing yoga when we got back to Washington, so my body hasn’t had a nice stretch in about three weeks. Second, a bad memory from the “Storm of the Century” decided to rear its nasty little head…
If you grew up in the south or on the east coast, you may remember this winter. Yes folks, Wikipedia will back me up on this one—in 1993, a crazy storm cell made for 3 snow days in Gainesville, GA. We’re from the poultry capital of the world, so you know we have to make sure our storms have names worth remembering; hence, “Storm of the Century.”
Imagine, if you will, little Stephanie. She was in 5th grade, and was stoked to go spend the night at a friend’s house. After Mrs. Hawkins picked all the kids up from school, we got to go to the grocery store and stock up on snacks. I remember that we got Clearly Canadian water (strawberry and peach flavors), Handi-snacks, dunkaroos, and gushers. Bring on the snow, right??
And Old Man Winter delivered.
I’m not sure exactly how much snow we got, but it was more than enough for sledding, snowball fights, and making a mega-snowman. My friend had snowsuits and goggles, and we made excellent use of them! Enter my bad memory…
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| What happened in NC |
Those of you who know me well are aware that I am coordination-challenged. And I have “grace” tattooed on my back for a reason. That reason may well have started during the Storm of the Century. Elizabeth, her brothers, and I were all suited up and taking turns on sleds. I had on goggles, a hat, and mittens. I looked as badass as a 10 year-old can in a hot pink snowsuit. So I got on that sled and started down the hill. Through my sweet snow goggles, I spied two trees at the bottom of the hill. In my mind, my sled would go right between those trees, no problem. In reality? I fought two trees, and they definitely won. Instead of steering or rolling off the sled, my goggly face slammed into one tree, and my right hip made hardcore impact with the other tree. The result was impressive: two black eyes, an inability to walk, and a squawk heard for miles. My parents’ friends had to bring their HUGE truck to pick me up (shout-out to the Pinsons, 18 years later), I felt like a fool, and the bruise on my hip didn’t show up for two more weeks. Luckily, those snow days let the black eyes heal a bit before facing other 5th graders! While I didn’t need medical treatment for my hip at age 10, I’ve been nagged by it from time to time. When I tried to do ballet on my own, it made an annoying and uncomfortable popping noise. When I trained for my MS Challenge Walk last year, I felt a pretty intense tightness there. And yesterday, it wailed at me.
My solution? Take it easy, stretch it out, and start yoga again. If you have any other tips, PLEASE share.
