Defeat of Da Feet: A Rant (or, I Can’t Believe I Injured My Calf Muscle Again)

Sigh.

Not long after finishing yesterday's Beverly Hills run toward the front of the 11-minute three-miler pack, I felt a familiar, loathesome twinge in my right calf. Alarmed, I launched into several minutes of obsessive stretching, but my efforts proved futile: By the time I was standing in line for the free Whole Foods sandwich halves, both calves were clenched and emitting bursts of intense pain from that point where the muscle links up with the tendons of the ankle. (If I remember correctly from my 11th-grade anatomy and physiology class, the muscle in question is called the "gastrocnemius." But man, that spelling looks really, really wrong.) And, like the last time this whole injury situation began, the pain in my right calf is much more intense than the pain in my left.

Honestly, I can't believe it! Injured again! What the...? I was so careful this time to avoid jogging in place on the balls of my feet at the stoplights! Granted, we hit many more red lights than the last time I ran this course, so maybe the stopping and starting---even sans stationary jogging---did me in. I don't know! CL suggested I run on the road, not the concrete, next time around. The pavement is more forgiving and offers some "give," so maybe that's it. Also, this Beverly Hills course is the only one of the three that involves sidewalk running. The Santa Monica course is great in that we run along that dirt path above the beach, which is easy on muscles and joints. The Ladera course is all neighborhoods, so there's no stopping at intersections or traffic forcing us onto the sidewalk.

So now what? Last night I stretched and slathered on Flex-all, which is like Kryptonite to S and Toonces. Neither of them can tolerate the strong menthol odor. (Toonces kept attacking me, as if I were a big, menacing menthol monster.) I then iced my right calf with the bag of frozen "Peruvian Scallops" I've had in the freezer for approximately four months now. But today I'm hobbling around. It seems I won't be able to do Saturday's Ladera run (the one with the free Starbucks afterward), and that makes me very, very angry.

Honestly, I might just cut out these Beverly Hills runs altogether. It takes me an hour to drive to the starting point (Niketown at Wilshire and Rodeo) from work anyway, and by the time I arrive, I'm all amped up and twitchy from the treacherous drive. Plus, I always get there just in the nick of time. Barely time to pee and say hi to J and CL before hitting the sidewalk.

Hello, treadmill. It's been so long. I haven't missed you, but it seems the time is right for a forced reunion.

Grrr.