I wasn't in a very good mood last night. My first attempt on the treadmill resulted in a 0.1 mile walk. I promptly got off, and Andy and I went out to eat. I was starving, since I only had 300 calories worth of grocery store sushi for lunch and some water. I would have eaten my own hand.
Plus, I finally went in to the doctor and got my shoulder looked at. About 3 months ago I fell over my own feet while leading my young Percheron horse around the arena. To be fair, he was acting up a little bit and did bump into me, pushing me into the wall.... But, truth be told, he didn't knock me down, which would have made a better story. He banged into me, and I tripped over my own feet. I crashed to the ground with a horrible thud, landing on my right hip and my right shoulder. I'm still dealing with some mild nagging pain when I try to lift my arm over my head--well-- about shoulder height really. Turns out I tore my bicep and strained my rotator cuff. Not even knowing what a rotator cuff is exactly, I now have to do PT to restore the full range of motion. Apparently I waited too long to get it fixed, and shoulders like to get stiff without proper use. So, klutzes beware-- seek treatment if you don't heal up after 4 weeks or so, even for minor aggravating pain.
Now, I hogged down a cheeseburger at dinner and came home feeling REALLY guilty. So, after a minor bout of stomach pain, I hit the treadmill for round 2. It was 6:30, and the tragic event of the final episode of 24 started at 7. I did stay on for nearly an hour and did my lethal hill climb: one quarter mile at each incline of 1,3,6,8,10 and 12. Then back down, stopping at 0. I didn't push the speed much-- just under 19 minute miles for a total of 3. I must be getting somewhere, because it wasn't as excruciating as it used to be. Today I don't even feel sore like I thought I would be.
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