Wednesday, February 05, 2014
I was so happy last week that I'd finally kicked that cold. Went for a 6.5K run on Saturday. That may have been too much, and it probably didn't help that I ended up driving 500 miles this weekend instead of doing some easy activity to help my muscles relax.
Monday morning, as I got out of the car, I felt my lower back seize. It's not really painful; it's more like someone wrapped me up in duct tape. Everything feels tight. I have that weird old-person walk: it's uncomfortable to move forward by bringing my knees up (using my quads/flexors primarily), so I'm kind of shuffling along with these little baby steps. And my posture looks really stiff.
The weather has turned. We're having "unseasonably" cold weather. Heck, it's winter: what other season has single digit temps? And it's been windy. I could handle the cold if it was just the cold. I can't handle 15° and 25-mph winds.
I may try a Group Ride class tomorrow night, after my follow-up visit with the chiropractor. Monday, he said I was the tightest he'd ever seen me be. After another adjustment tomorrow, I'm hopeful the spin class will help my back relax. I'd love to be able to run this weekend, but I'm going to play that one by ear.
So I'm really being a crybaby about all this. I've been consoling myself with treats. It's not overboard - a "fun size" candy bar one day, half a cupcake another - but because I'm not working out I certainly don't need the extra sugar & fat. And I'm crabby, because I haven't been to the gym since Friday. (I was thinking about swimming, but the lap pool is kind of chilly. Not sure my back will enjoy exercising in that.)
Times like this cause me to exagerate my self-described "can't win for losing" cycle. Often, I will get started on the right track, and then something derails it. Work blows up. I get sick. Saddle sores. Weather doesn't cooperate. Too many meetings. It doesn't happen everytime, but when I'm wallowing in self-pity, I don't view history with a clear lens. So I boo-hoo and whine about how the fates are out to get me.
The thing is, this - like every detour - is temporary. It's a detour, not a derailment. My wheels are not off the tracks, they're just a little off course. I don't get to control the road ahead; I can only control how I react to its twists and turns (and occasional detours). So while I'm complaining, truth be told, I kind of enjoy this wallow in self-pity. Sometimes the detour serves the purpose of giving me a break I didn't know I needed. I'm getting blown off course for a week, not months. DWI, Kim - deal with it.
But I'm still going to whine.