The best laid plans, blah, blah, blah. With a strained left piriformis, and strained right calf/Achilles, I decided I could get in a good swim Thursday to make up for forced inactivity in the running department. Well, guess what? Yeah, kinda over did it in my usual fashion. Halfway through my second mile, I felt a twinge in my right pectoral muscle, kinda up in the arm pit area. I chose to think I just needed to pay heed to my stroke technique. That did seem to help as I finished mile 2 and then did another 10 laps just for good measure. I did manage to get in two 20 minute sessions with the aqua-jogger belt to boost cardio and keep from totally neglecting my legs. As I climbed out of the pool, I knew in my heart that I had over done it, my right pec was giving me some grief. Once home, I took my vitamins, my anti-inflammatory supplements, made a nice anti-inflammatory dinner, chased it with arnica pilules under the tongue, and massaged my tender pec. Sure, it was a bit tight the next two days, but I figured it would be okay. Until I had to climb through a chest high, narrow window opening in 60 pounds of firefighting gear during training Saturday afternoon. I felt the twinge of a tweaked muscle. Okay, okay, it was more than a twinge. It was more of a holymotherofthegods that is gonna hurt later. I continued with the training scenarios, though the next time I went through the window I just went in head first, not taking any strain on my chest or shoulders... and what the hell, I am wearing a helmet and protective gear. Again, dinner was anti-inflammatory foods, anti-inflammatory supplements, and arnica pilules for dessert. That night, as I started undressing for bed, pulling my sweatshirt up over my head hurt so f'king bad I almost cried. It hurt enough that I thought for a moment I would be trapped in my shirt. But I sacked up and managed to pull my shirt off. The discomfort made my sleep a little restless, I had to use my left hand to reach for my drinking water. Oddly, the next morning I felt much better. Yes, still tweaked, but at least I could dress myself without making piteous noises that scare the dogs.
Training Sunday there were more than a few moments that reminded me that I had boo-boos in every quadrant of my body. Belly crawling, dragging loaded hose line, shagging 5" hose, it was a good workout, and probably less traumatic than what I do to myself willingly. I need to allow myself to take it easy, but that goes against my nature.
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