The Best Medicine

Sometimes, reality is the best medicine we can take. I’m just hoping it leads to something good.

Over the past several weeks, I’ve seen my pace dwindle to a near crawl. Take Sunday for example.

Coming off an 11-mile run the previous day, when I couldn’t come close to hitting the paces prescribed in a 90-minute progression run (broken into 30-minute segments, each segment gets faster), I aimed to run 12-15 miles the following day.

Granted, I had put in some miles the day before, but I had missed a couple of easy runs the week before. And I’ve done these back-to-back runs several times this year. But Sunday nearly brought me to my knees: out on the road, as I climbed a hill, the pain in my leg brought me to a stop. And then a slow walk. A few minutes later, I started shuffling down the road – four miles from where I had parked.

Friends ask me if I’m injured. No, I reply. And I do feel healthy, outside of the fact I can’t move any faster and my pace is nearly 2 minutes slower per mile than normal.

The problem is my hip is simply out of alignment. It has been for weeks, if not months. It was compounded by wearing a new pair of shoes, which changed my gait and multiplied the issues. Nothing a trip to the chiropractor can’t fix.

At least that’s what I believe.

See, I’ve been down this road before. Major issues resulting in significant decrease in pace. I’ve gone into the chiropractor, where everything was put back into place, and found myself back at my old comfortable pace. And I’ve run races the day after an appointment, and unsure before arriving at the office if I’d even be able to survive the distance – and then gone out and set personal bests.

It effects more than my running. Each step hurts, and it’s impossible to get comfortable even sitting. So I will go to great lengths this week to make it to my chiropractor – and expect everything will be back to normal again.

At least I hope so.