Wednesday, November 14, 2007

The Punishment

Today was my long run. Well, long for me. It was about 7.5 miles, so I decided to do it on the lakefront path. My friend, Warren (the running guru who has completed about 11 marathons and led me complete my two Chicago marathons) nicely agreed to run with me. He is training for Rome in the spring. He's a running machine.

By the way, I brought my camera to take a picture of us, but he refused. He said, "No one wants to see my ugly face." Sissy.

Anyway, I woke up this morning with sore knees, faltered over whether or not to do it today, and gave in.

As the run began, I immediately knew there were problems. The knees pretty much were in agony over the entire run, so much so that at two points, I even asked Warren if we could walk.

And while the conversation with my running buddy was great, the internal dialogue went something like this:

Me: Oh, knees, please feel better. Please let this be one of those things where, once you settle in, you feel better.

Knees: Yeah, okay, Big Girl. Let US do you a favor. Let US get you through.

Me: I sense some anger, Knees.

Knees: Anger? Anger?!? How intuitive of you. By our calculations, you do long ride Sunday, cross train on the Elliptical for an hour Monday, do yoga, swim AND run yesterday, and you expect us to be happy? Girl, please.

Me: Okay, okay, okay! So I haven't treated you so well these last few days. I just got really excited about training, and figured I would see what I could do.

Knees: Says the lady whose been rehabbing a back injury for the last nine months, and has already had two surgeries on us from over-usage. Real smart. Hey, aren't you a doctor?

Me: Well, you don't have to get so sarcastic. That's my fighting tool. And besides, I already apologized.

Knees: Really? I didn't hear it. Hey other knee, did you?

Other Knee: Nope. Can't hear anything over the throbbing pain that is radiating under my cap.

Me: Guys, listen. I really am sorry. I know you and my back are taking the most abuse in the next several months. I was wrong. I should have given you a day off. In fact, I will give you a day off tomorrow. I promise. Not even a swim. A whole day off!

Knees: Oh how very generous of you. As long as we make it through the pounding you are currently delivering to us, right?

Me: (Silently weeping) I am begging. And I don't beg. Anymore. Not even for food.

Knees: Alright, fine. We'll stop hurting for the last few miles. Besides, your Back told us it wants to punish you for a while, so I guess we can step aside.

Me: I understand. And guys? I promise - no more being a pighead. You work hard, you deserve your days off.

Knees: It's about time you give us some respect. Now, Back - it's your turn.

So that's how it went down.

Lesson learned.

Now if you'll excuse me, it's late, and I need to eat some more Ibuprofen. For dessert. To compliment the nice plate of Aspirin I ate for dinner.



moonpie said...

Be nice to those knees would ya?

Brent Buckner said...

Some things shouldn't be guidelines - they should be rules.

LassenLaw said...

Isn't it funny how we triathletes don't know when to say when? It is such an- I don't even know what- is addiction the right word?

Prin said...

Aww. (hugs)

I know all about the knee pain. Those bastids. I didn't know you could get surgery to fix them though. Hmm...

I hope you feel less sore today. :)