Monday, February 9, 2009

Pedometers and Shitty Knees

I bought a pedometer about 3 months ago to track how far I was running. At the time I would just go out with a watch, come back exhausted but have no idea how far I went. Side note: I have to say, Delaware is backwards in many ways, but they do their parks right, and looking at all the gorgeous houses is a nice distraction.

Anyway, I bought the pedometer at Target for five bucks. But upon reading the directions realized you have to measure your stride in order for it to be anywhere near accurate. (I realize this is common sense, but it was an impulse buy, therefore little thought went into how pedometers truly work.)

So I was too lazy to lay out a measuring tape and measure my stride. But with the beautiful weather (and a half marathon on the horizon) I decided to measure. This wasn't easy since I have to measure ten running strides and I only had a normal measuring tape. BUT I succeeded, programmed the pedometer, and was on my way.

I should mention now that I have bum knees and blow them out almost once a year by forcing them to do too much.

So I've been running inside on the treadmill for about 2-3 months due to cold and lack of sun, which is considerably easier and I go for a much shorter time. (There are only so many cars I can count while staring out of the Y's windows.)

But on our first decent day, I decide to go for a real run, outside. At five miles my knees started to hurt, but I looked at that DAMN PEDOMETER and though, "only five? Push it!" and kept on running. Seven and some tenths of a mile later I was taking the hottest bath possible and popping Ibuprofen. I spent all f-ing week recovering and doing yoga to stretch it out. And what the hell happens? We get another beautiful day on Saturday and I do it again. So I get to six miles this time and tell myself, "You can make it, do nine." I slept both Saturday and Sunday night slathered in Tiger Balm. I am an idiot.

Conclusion? I should listen to my knees and not my pedometer.

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