Two days ago I was attempting to run 3 miles, and couldn’t make it without walking in between due to knee pain. Bullocks! On the plus side, I walked down some streets I usually pass right by and discovered some cute bars plus a new coffee shop called LaGreca on Wythe and South 1st. It must be new because the only indication of the storefront were two paper signs in the window. Sweet, more coffee!
When I got home from that run-walk on Monday morning I was feeling slightly defeated, but also proud that I finally learned. I used to think it was all or nothing–”If I’m not running, what’s the point? Forget it.” Wah. Wah. Shut up mel.
What an unfortunate mindset I had, because that’s just not true. I got out there, and even though I couldn’t do the speed I wanted, I kept the distance the same and paced smart to keep from getting more injured. And then, on Tuesday, I did the unthinkable.
After work on Tuesday, having no run in the morning figuring my knee needed a rest, I decided to hit the gym (NYSC) for the first time since March.*
The workout? Eh. It was an hour of a bunch of different dancing techniques: salsa, samba, raggae, cha cha, merengue, African, and probably one or two more. The teacher was energetic and spunky. It was fun, but I wouldn’t say it was a kick-ass workout. My ass was not kicked. But it was shaken in rhythm, yes. I don’t think I’ll venture back to this class. There were others who were definitely getting a sweaty workout, so more power to them. But if you’re one of those people who needs a serious drill seargant pain sesh–it’s not here.
Wednesday morning I woke up and ran 3.5 miles here. No knee pain! GLORY. Rest and zumba did me right for a day.
I feel obligated to remind you that I didn’t run for two weeks prior to the knee pain. Rest is relative, people. And I am the master of abusing it. But I always come back, and I’m always thankful.
*note: I’ve been paying $70 a month for a NYSC membership while my ass has not seen the gym for 8 months (running outside). I’m investing in my piece of mind? … Someone knock some sense into me.