You can take Steve out of the woods, but you can't keep him intact.
Last week, I managed to hit myself in the head with a stick and I wasn't on a trail staring at my feet. No, I was chasing woodpeckers away from the wood trim on my house. They scatter at first, but eventually one gets brave and refuses to flee; one hopped from the house to a maple tree a few feet away, so I picked up a stick, threw it at him (or her) and the stick caromed off two branches and came back directly into my face. Nothing serious, but facial wounds do bleed a lot.
I expected the speed training was going to take a toll on me and the one day of sprinting did trash my legs, but I felt I was holding up nicely - for an old wreck held together with duct tape and baling wire. Running on my toes has brought back old plaguing Achilles tendon injuries; I'd forgotten them, but being old companions, they came back to me as if no time had elapsed.
Yesterday, I mowed the lawn (yawn). I once measured it in my more obsessive days and it's a 3 mile walk. Afterward, my right heel hurt. For the medicos out there, it's a result of Haglund's deformity. [I Googled for a picture, but couldn't find one nearly as bad as mine.] Later, it really hurt. Hurt enough I couldn't sleep. And I didn't have that problem with last year's broken bones!
At 3 AM, my foot packed in ice and my system full of painkillers, I started to worry, as it was getting worse. Looks like I ruptured a bursa, which is better than a tendon rupture, but still a pretty bad thing to do.
7 hours later, I was walking without much pain. Go figure.
Going up the country
1 day ago