I Am Officially 'Throw My Back Out' Years Old
If you follow me on the Gramstagrams (@yourmomentofjenn) or the ChatSnaps (@writewinerun) you heard about my almost intolerable back pain yesterday. It was so bad, I couldn't even think and I thought I might have to leave work. I'd love to tell you I did something exciting on Valentine's Day to cause a back injury involving a trapeze and Vaseline, but in truth...
I did it walking the 15ft from my car to my house.
Literally walking seven steps.
Now, you know I have had naggy soreness in my lower back since my long run last Saturday. It had actually started to feel better by Tuesday morning as I rehabbed it with stretching and core work, then I got out of my car Tuesday night, decided to cut through my yard to the front door instead of walking on the paving stones, and the second I stepped onto the mulch, the heel of my shoe sunk into the soft earth, and I felt a long pull down the right side of my back from my bra strap down to my waistband.
It didn't hurt or knock me over, but I knew what it was...
Lumbar strain! Happy Valentine's Day to me!
I knew it was going to be bad even though the pain hadn't set in yet. By the time I had dinner in the oven, let the dogs out, and talked to the kids, the muscles had already started to seize up and I could barely get over the dog gate. I grabbed a bag of frozen veggies, a glass of cabernet, took Advil, and retreated to bed for I knew shit would get real by sunrise.
And boy did it. I literally woke up Wednesday morning thinking I was going to die. It felt like I had loosened up my kidney or something. I laid there and debated whether or not to call in sick, but then I decided that the worst thing for a back injury is to lay around. You have to keep moving.
I went into the office, found a lumbar support pillow, and sat at my desk praying for death, watching the clock until I could take more Advil. At my lunch hour, I again decided getting in my usual three mile walk would be good to keep lymph and inflammation from building up, so I walked and took it a bit slow. It really did help; by the time I returned I could at least form thoughts.
When I got home, I was exhausted. I ran a hot bath with epsom salts in my husband, The Clawfoot Tub, and soaked for an actual eternity. No wine because the worst thing you can do with a muscle strain is dehydrate yourself, so I set up camp in bed with LaCroix, a heating pad, and Advil after stretching a bit.
I woke up feeling better this morning, but not well enough to run. While I think moving gently is the best thing when you're injured, running would be counterproductive and stupid. I'll walk this afternoon and stretch tonight. Maybe I can run tomorrow morning, but I won't beat myself up if I can't.
I'm no stranger to being hurt, but this whole, 'get hurt doing nothing' is stupid. I practically need a Jazzy scooter because I took a step on soft earth in a high heel. At least when I broke my ankle last summer I was skipping in wedges like an idiot and earned that injury.
It's probably not anything serious enough to go see a doctor over. If I'm not a ton better by tomorrow, I'll take another day off from running and go get a massage after work.
Thanks to you who messaged me with well wishes and tips for feeling better! Even though I was wrecked last night, I genuinely had one of the best nights of sleep I had in a long time. Bright side!
Oh and I'm wearing flats today. Not taking any chances.