I'm not writing about running again today because there's nothing to write about. I took this last weekend off -- my first running-free weekend since ... since ... since ... March? Yes, the weekend of March 8-9, the weekend when 18 inches of snow fell on Northeast Ohio, the weekend when I unveiled the Guess Viper's Car Contest. Since that weekend, I have gone eight months without skipping a weekend run.
I think I was about due.
I might run tonight. Might.
I know. This not running goes against my plan to crack 1,000 miles for the year. But so does this peculiar pain behind my knee.
You see, work is a dangerous place. That's why I try to do as little as possible while I'm there (i.e., here). However, yesterday, I hurt myself when I used my right leg to scoot my chair closer to my desk and computer screen (the better to see you with). I felt a very unpleasant pull near the juncture of my thigh and knee. It was painful, like bent-double painful.
But it's not a consistent pain.
I can walk fine. I can lift my leg OK. It doesn't hurt to touch. It just randomly hurts. Like, when I take off my pants -- which I do often -- it hurt like the Dickens. And normally, I'm OK with how much the Dickens hurts, because Dickens usually inspires me to stab out my own eyes with a grapefruit spoon, but this pain invokes a touch of pity for the man.
This pain is such that I think I can run, but the doubt is enough that I worry it might affect my gait. The Uncertain Stride will almost certainly lead to the Injured Stride.
Perhaps I'll run tonight after I vote. Or maybe I'll just lie down with a good book. And if not a good book, maybe A Tale of Two Cities.
[Drunkard's Note: Don't forget to vote today, teammates. And if you're having trouble deciding whom to vote for, don't visit Nitmos' blog today. I'm all for third parties, but the Calve Cramp Party? I think not. Vote for someone whose legs won't buckle under the weight of his own ego.]