The time is almost here, race day for the Ragnar Relay Wasatch Back, and I’m a bundle of nerves. Truly I think I’m psyching myself out. I know I’m not one of the hardcore runners. My mile per minute is around 10:30. I’m scared to get in the van with 5 of our runners. People I know will be sitting, waiting for me to arrive, and I will have that red faced, sweaty, out of breath look. My run will look more like a limping lope, due to a serious pain in my (there’s no way to put this politely) ass.
A couple of weeks ago while running hills I pulled a muscle in my butt that extends down the back of my leg and up my lower back. It hasn’t healed. I even took last week off from running to try and make it feel better. No such luck.
I have contorted myself into some awkward positions (I don’t think some of them are legal in several southern states) to try and stretch the muscle out. My husband has had the opportunity to massage my gluteus maximus. Something I think he’s enjoyed doing way too much. Despite all this attention to my rear, I’m still in pain every time I go on a run.
Every muscle in my butt is screaming at me to quit. Every time I step out the door to run I try to put the pain out of my mind, but those first few steps, whether it’s walking or running, are excruciating. I’ve made several verbal promises and oaths to friends and family that I will not sign up to run ever again… barring being chased by homicidal maniacs, monsters similar to those seen in the movie “Cloverfield”, or an awesome sale at R.E.I.
Besides icing my ass for the next few days, I’m going to reflect on my months of training, and try and figure out where I went wrong. In the meantime, it’s race week and like all good runners, I heard you should watch what you eat this week. But if I’m to remain true to myself, I’ll watch myself eat some homemade chocolate chip cookies, a plate of nachos, perhaps a mixed drink or two…
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