So D and I went for a quick run on Sunday. He was going 3, I was going 2. Being that it felt like Hell on Earth, we went to the gym. I started my .3 mile warmup.
Then took the MPH up. I lasted 90 seconds before I was in pain. So I hit the emergency stop. And started to cry (stressed much?). D was well into his run. He signaled he would cut it to 2, so I got on a stationary bike. The guy on the treadmill was in control of the TV. He was watching a Triathlon. I started to cry again. I don't enjoy swimming and biking doesn't give me a good calorie burn. Running, I both enjoy and get something out of... D finally finished and we went home. I had a lot of choice words for lots of people and was pretty much hysterical. I went to bed. I fell asleep for an hour. Then D brought me dinner.
Then I called my dad (a doctor). I described my pain, and he phone diagnosed it as bursitis (I have no insurance and no way to pay for COBRA--what unemployed person can pay for COBRA?, so going to the doctor isn't feasible). He said no running for a month, Aleve everyday, ice, and to stay active. I think he reiterated the staying active about 15 times. I bitched about D's work and the washing machine. His response was, "Wow, you are racking up the shittiest year you've had since what, last year?" This made me laugh, which made me cry. He reiterated the Aleve, ice and staying active.
So Monday I hit 4 stores for groceries (no Aldi savings....I lost the receipt)...basil shouldn't be that hard to find. By the time I got home, hip hurt, so Aleve (which I had to buy). I now know why I hate Aleve. After 2 hours, I need some more and have to wait 10 more hours. Stupid stuff. Still popping it, icing the hip.
Tuesday, I went to the gym. And met the elliptical machine. What a piece of crap machine!!! You shouldn't work out that hard for that little of calorie burn. I also went to the pool and swam 1200 or 1300M. Again counted down hours 'til I could take an Aleve. Checked to see if I could take more earlier. The response was, "Take 2 twice a day!"
Today I went to the Unemployment Office for my last class. Yay 2 months and I don't have to be bothered with them, except the checks. I also went for an hour long bike ride. Hip hurt at mile 10 (went 10.84).
So Doctor Dad doesn't think the tri is doable. D thinks it is. So right now I'm going with Dad's diagnosis, but am icing, hoping, not loading on Aleve, and trying to eat less, so I won't gain the weight I've lost back.
Now I have to go visit Dad so he can diagnose for real. Not that it will be much different.
And counting down to Bastille Day. That's the next time I can run.