5 Bottom Plow and So much More

Ladies and Gentleman the five bottom plow:


Normally drug behind a tractor, not a runner, those five blades dig into the earth turning it over making it fresh and ready for planting. I'll leave you to imagine the drag and the extended meaning of Forests metaphor.

That out of the way, I'm proud to say that I have not run a foot since my last post. However, a trip to the physical therapist was most enlightening on Thursday. After assessing the situation he asked what my goals are. He didn't even flinch when I said I wanted to do another marathon. Granted, this is the guy that helped me walk again after the first one, so I thought the coin could fall either way. Either he was going to take it in stride, or he was going to say something like, "Now, you've run two of them. And you are in for your second round of Physical therapy in the last 6 months. I'm seeing a trend here. Are you sure this marathon thing is the best for you?" Thankfully he didn't, so I was spared having to bitch slap him and tell him that I was the one paying the bills and he would do what I said.
So, we've figured out the problem and have devised the beginnings of a plan. It all goes back to that barn in Wisconsin some 30 odd years ago. It looked something like this:

It is here that I fell and broke my arm at the age of 4. It is this accident that, it has been theorized, was the beginning of my scoliosis. No, no one pushed me. If you can believe it I was not the most graceful child, although it was my dream to be a world class diver or figure skater. So, this scoliosis has meant that my body makes a lot of funny adjustments in order to get through the day. What it means most significantly is that my stomach muscles hardly ever work. I use my back for everything which just doesn't cut it sometimes. As I know I've mentioned before, a marathon, in such situations, is much like a rock in your shoe. Imagine, if you will, that there is a rock in your shoe. Now, you could walk across the room and it wouldn't be that big of a deal. You might even be able to walk around the block and not have a problem, maybe a mile, but a 26.2 miles? Your foot would be a bloody messy. Trust me, I've had it happen for 11 miles. Why didn't I remove the rock? I'm not quite sure, but it was a bloody mess. So, 26.2 miles has exagerated what were previously minor injuries brought about by my poor body mechanics over years and years of moving. Frankly, I will continue to keep running marathons, because it is helping me move so much better, that we might eventually fix everything.
With round two of PT Mel promises we will fix even more and get me on the right track. Now if you will excuse me I have exercises to do. Can anyone say, Kegel? Just kidding.

So, the moral of the story is: Don't climb in barns. It's terribly expensive later in life.