There’s nothing like realizing you’ve knocked a pound and a half out of the ballpark thanks to double workouts and better eating habits (um, minus dinner three times last week, as there was an important birthday to be celebrated), only to find yourself cooped up with an injury. I think there is only one word that conveys how this feels: craptastic.
A pain in the form of a strain or a pull (why couldn’t be a strainer for vegetables, or a pullover sweater? Why must it be an injury?) batted her eyes at me last night when I arrived to soccer. No sooner had I started warming up than I felt something a bit off kilter in my left quad. A tightness, perhaps. So I did what good recreation players always do (especially ones that listen to Dr. Dad) and made the choice to keep moving/playing, see if it was just a cramp or a sore muscle from all the spin class, and simply not to anything that hurt it.
Except…kicking hurt it. Running hurt it. Planting it to kick the ball with my right foot hurt it. Despite subbing out and stretching, there was nothing but a tightness hanging out along my quad, jolting up and down like a rubberband pulled taught and then released again. My team eventually told me I looked injured (that’s never fun, it’s like hearing you look sick when you have the flu) and I sat out the last five minutes.
Before I could duck home, I wanted to go by way of the store to grab provisions (aka, Ibuprofen and a package of frozen soy beans so I could ice) and it took mere minutes for even walking to hurt. Add on top of that keep my leg bent while driving? Oy, no way. Safely at home, ice on my leg, medicating like it’s going out of style, I watched Spaceballs with my roommate and tried really not to think about what comes next: rest.
Icing I can handle (both the kind that is sweet and buttercreamy, the kind anyone who has a sports injury has the pleasure of partaking in). I can read books or do something else, and I am doing something to help myself. Compression, while a pain depending on what you are trying to wrap, is fine. It’s warm at times. Yay! And elevation – my couch is lower than my coffee table* so easy-peasy. But rest? Rest is not something I take to kindly.
I like organizing my days, having structure, having a plan, and keeping busy. Put me in one place for a few hours and I start to get tired (my body goes “oh, we’re not moving? Guess it’s bedtime!” Just imagine what I have to do to keep myself awake at work). Tell me that even walking the mile to work at back ain’t a possibility lest I want to get better sometime sooner than never, and I’ll tell you that gosh nabbit, I hope you are plum wrong, look for another way, and call Dr. Dad.
Dr. Dad listened, asked questions, and asked me to push on things. Then he said, “Well, don’t do things that hurt you” (this includes bending my knee toward my chest, walking and sitting in a chair for long periods of time, especially if I cross my legs…all of which he told me to avoid). And to ice, compression, elevate and yes, rest. I think he literally specified “No Jogging!!” at least twice.
So I cancelled my spin reservation, have given myself a pass on walking into work, and spent far too long at my desk or on the couch, working and feeling increasingly sorry for myself. However, I do have handweights in my house…so maybe I’ll just work on arms later to try and break a sweat.
*by coffee table I mean toy chest that doubles as a table in our living room.