The Hitch in My Get-Along

Finally, a great ride! 75 miles. Perfect 70 degree sunny weather. Pushing hard but feeling good. Working the momentum; cruising up the hills. Staying hydrated and fed along the way. Maybe I can do this after all. Maybe it will be as fun as I hoped. The french fries must be working! (Did I tell you about the new secret to my success? Seriously, Trader Joe's frozen fries for breakfast before a big ride. Seriously. Major carbohydrates.)

But in the last few miles my knee started complaining. And loudly. Ouch.

The next day, carried by the excitement I got out on my bike for a short follow-up ride (gotta finally start getting used to two days in a row). But the constant stabbing knee pain was still there, and I had to turn around. Grrr.

So I tried walking around Greenlake with a friend to at least move a little, but a vague muscle ache in my hip that I woke up with got steadily worse until I was limping around the last part of the lake. My friend noticed and told me I had a "hitch in my get-along", a phrase I found so charming that it was almost worth the pain and frustration.

But really?! Where did that come from? Can't I catch a break at some point?! And now the opposite calf is painfully tight, I think because of favoring that side. I finally do what I supposed to do and get myself where I'm supposed to be, and I am falling apart! How is that karmically fair?

Urrg.