As I sit here on a package of frozen squash, it is time to admit that my right hip is injured. You will hear no more of the "it's minor, I'm not concerned" that I have been saying since it first became a problem when I stumbled at MMT. Sunday, I fell three times at Nipmuck when I couldn't lift the right foot high enough to clear the trail. Tonight I fell in the same way, catching my right foot on the ground when I was trying to swing it through while pushing off of the left. There was no trail to blame tonight, it was bare, level, paved road. And if that wasn't enough to convince me to join the injured list, there are the Nipmuck race photos that show my right leg crossing way over the left at a strange angle with every stride. Enough! I admit it! I'm injured.
No running for a while, that's for sure. Tonight I made it about two miles from home before stumbling and falling. I decided then and there I wouldn't run another step until I got it checked out. So I turned around and walked back home. It is one thing running through the not-so-good part of town in a skimpy running top and short running shorts, it is something completely different WALKING through town in the same outfit. While running, people hardly seem to take notice of me. But WALKING seems to be an invitation for harassment from the local rednecks, which I was in no mood for. (No offense to any local rednecks who might read this). It hasn't been a very good evening.
My plan is to sit on this squash for a while tonight, then make a call to my doctor tomorrow.