Friday, September 05, 2003

The dream dies.

So the half marathon is in two days. I haven't run in four weeks. You do the math.

While my hip-flexor injury is slowly getting better on its own (aided, no doubt, by lots of stretching, weekly yoga classes and -- oh yeah -- NO MARATHON TRAINING), it's still a huge barrier to completing little tasks like, say, running to catch a bus.

So I finally broke down and went to the professionals at AthletiCo. And when I learned my that free initial consultation would be with a male physical therapist, I started entertaining all sorts of porno fantasies. But they weren't meant to be; the guy was cute enough, but he was wearing one of those fashion faux pas WWJD bracelets. ACK!

Anyway, it took two cute-ish physical therapists to evaluate me, and they determined that 1) I have severe problems with inflexibility and 2) I should probably see a doctor and get X-rayed because there might be something more that's wrong. Yay.

In the mean time, I have an illustrated page of stretches I can do discreetly (or so I hope) at my desk. And a list of sports-medicine doctors to call -- after I figure out which ones are in my insurance network.

Stay tuned.

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