[20] moan

What I should be doing is getting some Thanksgiving dishes started. (I am in charge of salad and biscuits, and I think I am bring corn pudding, too.) 

What I am doing instead is, uh, nothing. NOTHING. Unless playing on the internet counts as something, which it does not.

I am supposed to be joining my friends for a run on Thanksgiving morning. Just a little four miles. 

This is all very well except that I gave up running for Lent because my right knee hurt too much and then my left hip started hurting when I started overcompensating for my right knee and it was all a cluster.

So on Sunday I decided that I would go for a little run, just to see how the four miles were going to go. I don't really doubt that I can run four miles, cardio-wise. The problem is the knee. I thought I would test it.

1.25 miles in, I started limping. I walked a bit and then ran again. Then I did my walk-backwards-and-sideways exercises to try to strengthen the muscles in my legs to hold my knee in place. 

Not only did my knee hurt for a day, my hip still hurts, and I must have tied my shoe too tight, because my foot is even worse. (I have narrow feet with high arches, and sometimes in trying to tie my shoe tight enough that my foot won't slide around, I end up putting too much pressure on the top of the arch. I don't really feel it until it's over, though, often.)

Oh, and then we did sprinting in fighting class. I did the sprints, because I felt FINE, just FINE, but it was a big mistake. Running + stops and starts did not contribute healthily to my feeling like a 90 year old woman. 

I am only going to do the 2 mile walk, not the 4 mile run. I think my body is telling me something.

I'll be the one stepping slowly along, one step at a time, holding my hip and moaning. Maybe with a cane.

You think I'm kidding.