Well, I went and tried out the solution today.
As usual I couldn’t quite restrict myself to a simple warmup and weights workout. Noooo. Not me. I chose to walk instead. Relatively mildly and meekly for the most part. A slightly ponderous 5kph shouldn’t worry too many people. It didn’t even worry me.
So I went a little faster and got up to my warmup speed of 6.5 kph. Again, not a killer. This was all going very nicely until a little over 2 kilometres in. Then I began to wonder about the slight aches that were appearing. Were they the tendon? Were they the calf muscles? Hmm. Discretion is the better part of valour so they say. So I slowed down and finished up the walk at 2.5k total.
No pain, no real discomfort, nothing.
Until dinner time*.
Bugger me if the damned tendon didn’t decide to become tender. Enter Mr Oh Waily, a flexible ice pack and that sticky crepe bandaging stuff that holds you together when you’re falling apart. After what felt like an excruciating thirty minutes but was, according to the Mr, only a matter of ten minutes of frozen heel I was ready to crawl into a hole.
Seriously, whoever thinks icing an injury is better than the injury needs their head examined. After I got some sort of feeling back in my leg I have now been left with that stupid low grade ache. I’m not in ‘pain’, but I’m damned sure I won’t be exercising again for yet another week (or maybe two) if a short walk does this.
Tendonitis is the most frustrating, low grade, irritating, stupid injury to grace the pantheon of injuries available to an aging, determined, back of the pack runner.
I’m off to find a corner in which to curse and laugh hysterically, alternately, in peace. May your limbs never betray you and bring you to this.
* I go to the gym at 9am so it took all fricken day to work it’s panties up into a bunch !
You’ve gotta love the quote in the title of this post. Only out of the mouth of a politician !
Thank you Richard M. Nixon for your handy observation that suits me down to the ground today !