Back Home Again in Indiana
About a year ago, Jesse and I talked about walking the Mini Marathon this year. And that conversation was the end of that until a few months ago when he saw something about a $10 promo code. Like a fool, I said, “Let’s do it!” And then I discovered that $10 wasn’t exactly what you’d call a bargain, and we decided we’d rather eat on a regular basis than walk a half marathon. But then (plot twist!) I got comp codes from work and we were back in business.
Little did we know we were behind before we ever started. I Googled training plans and every single one was a 15 week plan which would be lovely except we didn’t have 15 weeks. We had 10 weeks. So like the geniuses we are, we ignored the dire “you might die” warnings, each got new shoes, and started walking. And it was all lovely until yesterday when I woke up with my knee feeling like someone was trying to tear it from my body.
I couldn’t bend it without contemplating giving up on life and questioning just how badly I had to pee. I was 99% sure I was dying. Google, however, had other ideas. Turns out it’s a little something called runner’s knee, and it’s not deadly. It is, however, the worst and destroyed yesterday’s plan of 7 miles which means nothing counteracted the inappropriate amount of pizza and breadsticks I consumed on Saturday.
Moral of the story: It’s not at all embarrassing to admit you injured yourself practicing walking. Also, maybe try the salad.