And I'm not even talking about a pastry.
I've mentioned in the past (I think) that I enjoy running. I'm scheduled to run my second half-marathon in about two-and-a-half weeks, on April 10. I'd be looking more forward to it except for this nagging knee injury that, last Thursday, made me want to shout things like, "golly-gosh-darnit" and "fiddlesticks" in an endless loop. A good, leisurely run during my lunch hour on Thursdays should be good for six miles; last week, I made it exactly 1.83 miles. Since my runs typically take me on an out-and-back course, you can imagine my annoyance when I was forced to turn around at 0.915 miles, and then walk half of the return trip.
Gee-whiz.
The injury had actually nagged me for a few weeks, and I've isolated it down to two causes: Iliotibial Band Syndrome (ITBS, which sounds a little too much like IBS for me to be entirely comfortable saying the acronym out loud) and lingering, off-and-on effects from my low back injuries that sometimes cause Sacroiliac Joint Dysfunction (SIJD; bet you didn't see that acronym coming). Basically, the place where my ilium and my sacrum come together moves in less-than-optimal ways and causes irritation to a few nerves -- mostly the sciatic nerve, causing what we commonly know as sciatica (it has other causes, too). The ITBS causes pain along the outside of the knee and thigh, while SIJD causes pain in (literally, in) the leg and weakness in the knee.
Rest was clearly the most important treatment; if exercise irritates it, rest clearly would alleviate it. But many physical therapists and athletic trainers also recommend a foam roller. Not to be confused with a sponge roller, the foam roller is a long roll of densely packed styrofoam, usually six to eight inches in diameter and anywhere from 12 to 36 inches in length. Sometimes they are tubular, with a thin foam covering around a PVC (or similar) plastic tube for rigidity. Some are smooth, and others are textured to combine a foam roller's normal function with a small degree of accupressure.
Oh, the sweet, joyful pain it inflicts.
Seriously, the thing weighs all of a pound, and I could karate-chop it in half with ease. Yet it hurts. It hurts. And, to quote the late, great NASCAR driver Dale Earnhardt after winning the pole position at a road course two weeks after breaking his sternum, "it hurts so good."
My gosh, I never knew I had that many knots in my legs. You'd think I was participating in the International Muscle Cramp Olympics' gold-medal round, and winning soundly. With nothing but a portion of my own body weight providing the force, I wanted to cry a few times. I wanted to shout. I wanted to shake my fists at the world. I may have even peed myself.
Okay, it's not that bad. Really, it's not. It does hurt, but think of good-Swedish-massage-on-a-bad-day pain, not kicked-in-the-nether-regions-with-a-flaming-steel-toed-boot pain. Where it really kills is around the hips and the gracilis (that band-like "inner-thigh muscle" that no one who isn't a gymnast has ever managed to stretch well enough to make it not hurt beyond the age of 22). If you can get past that, you're golden.
It also works for other parts of the body. Just be careful.
Yes, I'm telling you to run out and buy a foam roller. There are two groups of people who can really benefit from them: people who are currently awake, and people who will be at some later time. If you need one last push to give you the courage to go look on Amazon for one right now, there is this: when I finished using it for the first time last night, I stood up and immediately thought to myself, "so this is what it feels like to not ache every waking moment...interesting." It's been about eight years since that last happened. I'd forgotten how blissful a feeling it was.
I haven't yet passed the biggest test: I am going to go for a two-mile run tomorrow, after a few nights of rolling, and armed with a new brace that is intended to help with both patellar tendinitis and ITBS. I'm hopeful that I can get the full two miles in. If I do, then I will do five on Saturday, a little more during the week, and hopefully I can get to 10 by next Saturday before I taper down for a week before the race.
Here's hoping I can run the race, and complete it. It's a hilly course, and ITBS is aggravated more by hills than anything else. And they don't call the hill at mile 11 the Boylan Beast for nothing.
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