![]() So after a week of not running at all, I put on those stretchy pants early in the morning with the idea that if I put on the running attire, then at some point in the day I will actually go running. Now keep in mind, the week I had off was great. No pain. My knees were happy. I walked like I was still in thirties and not somewhere in my eighties. All was well. Somehow, my knee caught wind of my plan and started acting up right after I put on the running shoes. I was like, “What is this all about? We haven’t even done anything yet?” I think it is my brains fault. My brain is smart (shut-up it is) and leaked this information to my knee. “Psst . . . Knee, you there?” “Uh-huh.” “Thought I’d let you in on a little secret.” Brain looks around to see if I’m paying attention. I’m not (which is typical) so my Brain continues. “She’s thinking of running today.” “What? No! I thought she gave that up? For the love of all that’s good in the world, WHYYYY?” “I just thought I’d give you a heads up in the matter.” (Notice my carefully placed play on words here. Hee, hee, hee) “Maybe she needs to be reminded a little. You know, she needs to be sent a message. Let her know this ain’t right.” (Why my brain sounds like the Godfather, I don’t know, but that’s how I picture this all going down.) “What’s the plan, Boss?” “Remind her of what it feels like. Put the squeeze on her. You’ll know what to do.” So before I had even put on the knee brace or anything, that darn knee started acting up. I had to take ibuprofen for the first time in days. Stupid knee. Well, I got the last laugh in on them . . . I went running. I did. I ran. I showed that brain of mine who was boss, alright. I ran/walked 2.5 miles (I didn’t push. I hadn’t done anything in a week remember.) I woke up today, my right AND left knee hurts and my right hip has joined the action too. There’s a mutiny going on here and my brain is the ring leader! Well, I’m going to go pop some more pills and NOT even think about going running tomorrow (hint, hint). I’s got’s to be tricky about this—my brain is clever (shut up, it is) and I got to mislead it into believing all is well.
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