Running Around in Four-Inch Boots

Last Friday, Neil and I joined some friends for a November tradition: Over the Rhine. The band (if you haven’t yet, check out their Web site and listen to their latest album) always ends up at Kent Stage around late November and we can’t help but love them. Sigh. They also released a top-notch holiday album last year, Snow Angels, which ties A Charlie Brown Christmas as the best holiday album of all time. No kidding.

But the reason I mention the show—aside from spreading the joy of Over the Rhine—is our other November tradition: running from/to the car, which is always about a half mile or more away, in the cold before and after an Over the Rhine show. In years past, the sensibility of my wardrobe hasn’t been the best. This year, however, was different. While I wore a short black dress to the show, I went super trendy with running tights disguised as leggings beneath the dress, and I was pretty warm and ready to run!

Now, I thought the only downfall to my brilliant plan was that I was wearing four-inch platform boots. Au contraire, mon ami! It turns out these boots were made for running (even if I did roll my ankle every third step when I first bought them a few years ago) and I’m thinking they should be my new running shoes. Woo hoo!

We started our jaunt at Kent Stage, ran downhill on Main Street in downtown Kent and took a sharp right past out-of-the-bar smokers and waddling college students before hitting the final stretch along Franklin’s brick road. It was touch-and-go with the wobbly pavement and some potholes, but I made it to the car feeling warmed up and not at all sore in the left leg. Perhaps those four inches of platform eat up the shock and I should start investing in more Spice Girls attire for next running season.

Running since Friday, however, hasn’t been so great. I’ve had almost regular soreness in my left leg—mostly muscle or ligament or tendon or mental pain—and have stuck to my ibuprofen diet. What a bummer! But I have to say it wasn't caused by the boot run. It's been a fairly regular thing.

So, I’ve turned back to my jolly old plan of yoga, pilates and rec. center machines to keep me going. And tomorrow I swear I’m going to hit the pool. I’m also trying to get myself rolling on a twice-weekly spinning plan, but I’ve really only made it twice in three weeks. Or was it thrice? Nevertheless, I’m nervously hitting the bikes and elliptical at the rec. in a mad effort to keep up my cardio. Losing my cardio shape would break my heart. In more ways than one!

My plan for now is stop running until the end of December (the end of December?) and keep up with every other part of my regiment that doesn’t involve pounding on my lower leg. I was reading an article in Runner’s World yesterday, which was oddly enough about knees and not broken legs at all (although they're sometimes related), that made me realize rushing my leg to wellness won’t actually make it better. And while I realize that this article is about the seventeenth thing I swear is making me think better about rushing back to miles, I’m hoping it will be the last thing. The only thing left is a broken leg, so I’ll keep my fingers crossed that I won’t return to being an idiot.

In far more exciting news, my friend Stef just had a baby girl named Kelsie Golda (I heart Golda) and I can’t wait to see the two gorgeous girls!

But for now I’m going to let Pablo Domene Lee, who seems to have disappeared from the Internet, kick my butt again. I did half his yoga session this morning, so my right side is stretched and sore while my left side has no idea. It’s a strange feeling and I need to evenly spread the pain…