So it's been just over two weeks and I still haven't run a single step since the NYC Half-Marathon. Not one. Not even running for the bus. Don't look at me like that. It's enough that I'm looking at me like that.
And when I remind you that I'm technically in training for my next half-marathon on April 15, no doubt you are looking even further down your nose at me. Believe me - I know!
But today I got back in the saddle by lying flat on my back at Pilates. I had a new instructor tonight and a very softly-spoken one to boot. And if I thought my knee was bad, my hearing is so much worse. So I knew I was in for a cracker class. As my muscles strained, so did my ears - straining to hear the calming, dulcet tones of the sadist that was trying to turn me into a pretzel. My hamstrings cried, my inner thighs didn't know what the hell was going on, and my hip joint spasmed in a way that told me it was most displeased.
After an hour of pulleys and springs, twists and turns, we were done. I almost fell off the Reformer machine in relief. The instructor came over to me and said I had actually done a really good job. I peered up at him and must have had quite a look on my face, cause he laughed really hard and slapped me on the back. He said something about my strong inner thighs, and he shuffled off.
I think I need a hearing aid.
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