Friday, April 9

Catcher in the Thigh

It’s all the power yoga I am doing. IT HAS TO BE.

Because parts of me are sore that I don’t remember ever being sore before. And it’s interfering a bit in the day to day activity of my life.

Mostly- it’s throwing a wrench in a basic staple of my routine. WALKING.

Walking for exercise, walking for purpose, walking to pee… wherever I am going, I am constantly reminded that I have been working out.

So Wednesday night, at walking group, my good buddy Hope showed up. She’s a hoot, and I have loved reconnecting with her as an adult, since we were high school friends. She wears a fanny pack like me to walking group (BLESS YOU FOR THAT, HOPE! I was feeling like a dork till you showed me it was socially acceptable to walk with an extra fanny on your middle.)

And for my readers in the UK, when I say fanny pack- I mean this:

(Hulk Hogan makes it look so cool....)

I don’t mean fanny in the way you use the term. (Just thought I better add that disclaimer, as I have a lot of gals on the other side of the pond who read this!!! LOL)

I explained to Hope that I was not going to be walking at my best that night because my thigh was hurting. The top of my thigh, to be exact. (Before I had always worried about the back of my thigh, as it contained so much cottage cheese, but all these lunges and crap are working the front of the thigh too.) So with every step I had taken earlier that day, I was VERY AWARE of the top of my thigh.

And I don’t mind admitting that through the duration of Wednesday night church, I was rubbing the tops of my thighs as inconspicuously as one can possibly do in church. They hurt!!!!

I figured that all that massaging had loosened them up enough to crank out our 6 laps or so (which equals 3 miles) but I am not so good at calculations.

So Hope and I began our circular journey around the footpath of the mall. We talk and chit chat about pretty much everything. And we got in 2 laps. I was doing a motion with my hips and booty to try and alleviate some of the pressure off my thighs. Especially my right one. And I am pretty sure that if you had been walking behind us, it would have looked like I was doing an impersonation of a rap video gone wrong.

When Tricky Nikki showed up, we were in the groove, but we stopped and got a quick drink of water. I stopped moving, for less than a minute, and got a good swig of water.

That’s when the cramp hit me.

Yep, the top of my right thigh seized up like a slug that gets salt poured on it.

And it literally knocked me off my foot.

To which I quickly compensated with the other foot to retain some sense of balance. But mostly I looked like I had consumed one too many cocktails before the walk.

To which Hope practically spit water out of her mouth from laughing, and Tricky Nikki, who is used to my frantic antics, giggled and asked if I was ok. By that point, I was pulling out every stretch I remember from high school gym class to get the cramp to go away. And it subsided a little. Little enough to start walking again.

I told them we better start moving before another cramp hit me. So we did. I spent the next 3 laps trying my best to find a way to walk without hurting the thigh more.

Those methods included (but are not limited to) :

1. Walking dragging one leg behind me in a limping fashion.

2. Trying to kick the leg out in a wide circle as I brought it around to the front. Like a mule. (But I looked like the other term for a donkey)

3. Skipping style.

4. Shuffle motion.

5. Whiney style, which was the preferred method of choice. I tried to keep it to myself, but every once in a while, I would declare a good “OUCH!” with a step. My poor friends. What they put up with from me!!!

It’s taken a lot of hot baths, a day off of the yoga, and heating pad/advil treatments, but it finally feels much better. Thank heavens.

So today I will be back on the yoga. But I will be careful, and do my best to keep the positions from hurting me again like they did.

And Hope, I am thinking about ordering us these tshirts….


Krissy said...

Hahaha! Love the shirt. I had the coolest neon yellow one for the longest time. What ever happened to them selling fanny packs in everyday stores?
Do people really not see the coolness factor? Silly people.

Danielle said...

What gets me is th fact that men like Hogan... Or say, my dad can wear them and they do look good. My dad is another one who's pretty big, muscle wise... And I think that's key. We need muscles to make them look

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