I don’t know what I’m doing while I sleep, but for the second time in a couple of months I woke up and couldn’t walk. This time it was the right groin and the pain was so severe, that my leg gave way when I stepped from the bed a 4 a.m. to make a bathroom visit. I caught myself on the dresser and forced myself to make it to the toilet…peeing on the floor was not an option. I limped back to bed and rolled to my back…the only position in which I could find any comfort but from which I snore loud enough to shake the pictures from the wall…which pleases Holly not at all.
I don’t know what did it. I went to bed feeling fine. I had ridden hard and felt some twinging as I pulled up on the pedals during some rapid ascents. I spent the day sitting as much as possible and was forced to cancel a planned Survival Workout with Paul. I did get to catch up on football, though watching the Browns was no treat. By the end of the day, I was beginning to feel better…and lazy…and concluded that I could at least do some push-ups. I did one set in the family room which felt entirely wrong. I’ve been doing everything outside…usually on cold, wet earth with twigs and pebbles poking in my palms…and the carpeting was just…foreign. I only managed 72 reps, which I attributed to my unnatural environment, so I took it outside next to a dog turd I’d yet to clean up…and popped 82 for my second set. The sweet smells of nature give me strength.
By the time I went to bed, I was about 80 percent and really wondering why something that made it almost impossible to stand could come and go without my knowing why. Sometimes fitness hurts…and that’s all I have to say about that.
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