Adding Fuel to the Ire

This morning I drank some caffeine sports beverage on my way to the lake. I was doing well: on schedule, fairly warm and armed with gloves and an mp3 player. There was crazy traffic due to a fallen tree or some crap on the freeway, so I took the street to go around the mess. I was eager to get running. I found a great parking spot and took off for my beautiful lakeside jog under the light of the spectacular full moon. "Bleeding Love" played softly in my earbuds, and I was extremely content...for about a half mile. My stomach started gurgling and cramping so bad that I had to stop completely. I couldn't even walk it off. It was far too early to expect any restroom to be open so I tried my best to encourage movement before I left the house, but there was no activity. Yet there I was barely a half hour later clenching my cheeks and swearing under my breath, shuffling the half mile back to my car so I could Mario Andretti my ass to the nearest clean and available restroom. I was so angry that my blood pressure was elevated.

After driving to the office, using the restroom and putting my bags away, I headed out for a run around Aquatic Park. The sun was out but there were very few people around. It was actually quite nice except for the fumes wafting over from the freeway. That loop is a few hundred feet longer than my usual. I enjoyed the change of scenery. I thought, ' Welcome to the full moon - Queen of technical difficulties.'

For the second consecutive day I showed up for personal training at the company gym but instead ended up receiving bodywork. Today's session was intense. The pain was so great at times that I needed a break to stop my eye from watering or my toes from twitching. It was a good reminder of why I need to figure out some way to incorporate IT band loosening homework into my schedule. For example, I could be doing some right now of o could just figure out what I can use on the bed while watching TV. I think it's time to go buy a softball since the foam roller isn't doing shit. There's this thing called a rumble roller that I should also become intimately involved with. So far I hate it, but it beats the pants off intense bodywork. No more please!

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.5