Thursday: 10 miles on the bike.
Friday: 12 miles stationary bike.
Sunday: 16.5 miles stationary bike plus
- barbell bench press
- bicep curls
- machine dips
- goblet squats
- dumbbell lunges
Monday: 12 miles stationary bike plus 20 minutes yoga
So it’s about time I faced it: it’s a stress fracture, or at least the beginning of one. My insurance isn’t good enough for me to waste time messing around with doctors’ visits and MRIs, so I can’t know for sure, but I know enough about running to know that a) it’s not shin splints and b) everything I’ve read about stress fractures seems to point in that direction. I can feel it when I’m not running, the pain is localized, it hurts when I press on it.
(Please allow me a paragraph for a brief temper tantrum: HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN? How? My mileage hasn’t really exceeded 20 mpw this summer, and until June, it was closer to 10 mpw. I either have the worst luck or the weakest bones in the world. Probably both.)
The good things:
1) It’s minor. There’s no shooting pain; it just twinges a bit, or aches after a week where my mileage gets too high. It shouldn’t take months to heal. I’m extra-sensitive to pain because of my lack of decent health insurance, so I don’t push it in these situations—and in this case, that turned out to be a good thing. With any luck I’ll be back on the road in six weeks or so.
2) This will give me some time to focus on my other workouts. I’ve been loving my lifting sessions lately, but running makes it tough to get in more than one a week—there’s never a good time for DOMS when a long run is right around the corner. I want to do more yoga than I’ve been doing, too.
3) I’ll be able to catch up on some reading. I can read when I’m on the bike or the elliptical, but not on the treadmill—and yes, I know that the experts tell you not to read while you’re working out; IDGAF. My page-per-month count should go through the roof.
Work day. I walked the half-mile to the coffee shop and my shin still felt twinge-y, so I think I’m going to stay off it again tonight and save myself for my 10-miler tomorrow (had to move that up a day since I’m working all weekend). Probably going to bike tonight instead—it’s my friend’s birthday, but she’s working tonight, so we’ll probably stop by and get a beer.
2.5 miles. Was supposed to be 3, but I cut it short because of shin pain. I thought my two weeks had been enough to heal it, but clearly not. I’m now leaning towards the idea that this is the beginnings of a stress fracture, so I’m taking tomorrow off. I’ll re-evaluate after my long run this weekend.
My friend Matthew and I, after a month of planning, finally managed to coordinate a trip to see Moonrise Kingdom. We’ve seen every single Wes Anderson movie together except Fantastic Mr. Fox (Matthew planned an ill-timed move to Kansas that year), most of those in the theaters but a few on couches in the various living rooms he’s had over the years. We were committed to following through on the tradition again this year, not so much because Wes Anderson still Speaks To Us the way he did when we were 19 but because it’s neat to have a single thread like that following you all the way through a 14-year, 5-city friendship. At any rate, the movie was a complete throwback to old-school Wes Anderson in a good way—after not loving The Life Aquatic and The Darjeeling Limited, and liking Fantastic Mr. Fox but feeling it fell a little short of its potential, I was completely and totally charmed by this one.
I don’t know about anybody’s town but my own, but we’re really into neighborhood festivals. Really into them. There’s the Orton Park Festival, the Waterfront Festival, the Willy Street Festival, the Atwood Street Festival, Greek Fest—and these are just the ones near my side of town. But my all-time favorite is my own neighborhood’s festival, La Fete de Marquette. Held on Bastille Day every year (or as close to it as they can possibly get), La Fete is a celebration of all things French. The bands generally come from France or other Francophone parts of the world (or their members hail from them), or else they play French or Creole-influenced music—Cajun, zydeco, New Orleans jazz. Most of this is stuff we’d never get to hear otherwise, and it’s always awesome to rock out to Algerian reggae or Parisian salsa.
I can’t put my finger on exactly why La Fete is my favorite—Waterfront and Orton Park have prettier settings, Willy Street is bigger. But I always have a blast at La Fete.
Unfortunately this year, I timed things poorly: I went out to party immediately after my nine-miler. I got to enjoy some eggrolls from Lao Laan and a fun band from Madagascar, but beer wasn’t in the cards for me. C. and I ended up going home, ordering pizza and vegging out on the couch instead. Still fun, but not what I wanted. It’s come to my attention that I need to be more social lately. I’ve been hibernating too much.
I know better than to run at 3 PM when it’s 95 degrees out. But I also knew that I was going to spend the night at my friend Bonnie’s restaurant stuffing my face, and I wanted to get the workout out of the way. So 1.5 miles to the gym, 2 miles on the treadmill, and 1.5 miles back … plus bicep curls, dumbbell bench presses, one-armed dumbbell rows, standing dumbbell shoulder presses, and machine dips. The run back was miserable but I survived.
I hit 25-pounds with the curls, which was one of my goals for this year … not because I’m that into curls or anything, but because 25-pound curls seemed fairly unattainable for me, and I figured the rest of my fitness would progress at a similar weight. But here we are, just four and a half months later, and I’ve already hit my goal. Gotta come up with some new ones, I guess.
And then I was free to enjoy some deliciously greasy duck-fat fries, orzo, and beet salad (okay, and some wine and panna cotta). Topped it off with a bike ride and a quick trip to the opening night of our favorite neighborhood festival. There may have been a Capital Amber or two consumed. My favorite kind of day.
