Today I am not working out. There are two good reasons for this.
Reason #1 for no workout: I am sore. The PT had his way with my yesterday. Not only did he make mince meat out of my hamstring, but he put ten needles in it (dry needling) and five more needles in my lower back. If I wasn’t so stinking tough I would have puked, fainted and cried like a baby. To keep from crying I actually did this really loud and awkward laughing thing. It was a coping mechanism I did not know I had. I hope I never do it again.
See I wasn’t kidding. Those are slight bruises on the back of my leg. I told him next time I came I would need to bring my own anesthesia (BYOA) or pot (BYOP). Maybe I can get a prescription for medical marijuana. All I can say is all this poking and prodding better help or there is a good chance I will give up running and start crocheting bathing suits.
There is exactly three people on the face of the earth that this would look good on. But even their tan lines would make them look like they had a scary disease.
Overall, I will say that since starting PT I am doing better. It is tough to single out one thing that is working because I have changed up several things. Kind of like when you get pregnant, but have been sleeping around and don’t know who the dad is (not that this has ever happened to me).
- I am not running much on roads and sticking to trails and the treadmill. Softer surfaces = happier body.
- I am doing very specific stretches and doing them diligently.
- I’ve been strengthening my ass and other things (big toe, belly button tissue).
- I’ve added a small lift à la George Costanza to my right shoe to help correct a leg length discrepancy.
- I’ve been working on form issues – especially keeping my cadence at 180 steps per minute. This helps my feet to land under my center of gravity and hopefully on my mid foot. It also lessens overall impact.
Reason #2 for no workout: Today I am going on an all day field trip with Emma’s 5th grade class. This is seriously the Cadillac of all field trips. There is a special mini- town called “Young AmeriTowne” that has been created just for field trips. The kids each have jobs within the town (Emma is a DJ – she is so going to rule the town with Grease Lightening and Party Rock Anthem), and they are given debit cards to buy things with money they earn.
I interviewed the kids for the different jobs they applied for. It was the funnest (shut up, that is a word) thing I have done in a long time. I asked one kid why she thought she was qualified to be a doctor – “Because I have played doctor many times,” she said. Fair enough. Hired!
The whole thing is to teach kids about how to use money wisely. There will be lessons in free enterprise and the economy. It is genius. I wish someone would have taught me this crap. Then I would not have had thousands of dollars of credit card debt when I was about five years old. Should never have invested in that Barbie van with the hammock!
I am not sure what my role is today, but they did say (and I’m not kidding) chaperones have to “Refrain from any activity that might affect the AmeriTowne economy such as encouraging or instigating a bank robbery or labor strike or stealing or starting a boycott.”
Don’t even provoke me. I am SO going to rob a bank and start a riot. I’ll call it “Occupy AmeriTowne”! A couple years ago I went on a field trip with my son’s class and got yelled at by the bus driver for trying to make the trucks honk (remember that up/down motion you do with your bent arm??). Everyone is so serious these days. Lighten up, Francis!
I feel gypped. The best field trip I ever went on was to the Air and Space Museum in D.C.. We left some kid there by mistake. It was me. Just kidding. It wasn’t, but we really did leave someone there. I think he’s still waiting for a ride.
This is my best-mom-field-trip look:
What was your best or most nightmarish field trip growing up?
Have you been to PT before? If so, did it help or not?
Do you crotchet, knit, embroider, quilt or sew? My mom is a huge and very talented quilter and sewer. I am not.
Ever have a pregnancy scare and not know who that dad was? You don’t have to answer that.