Today marks the one-year anniversary of me screwing up my leg/thigh/whatever. I still don’t know exactly what happened because I never did go to the doctor (I am a responsible adult, after all, living in a country where it doesn’t cost your first-born son to go to a doctor), but I’m going to say that it was a muscle tear. That’s the only thing I can imagine a) feeling like that, b) hurting in the very specific situations where it hurt, and c) taking this damn long to heal.
It’s still not all the way healed. I feel it twinge on occasion and am still a bit terrified to run, kneel, or even just stretch the muscles in that leg. But it is a lot better than it was. It’s finally to the point where I’m not constantly thinking about it. It’s finally to the point where I feel like I can start pushing it on my walks a little bit more.
It would have been great if it had never happened, but I suppose, given how much I walk, there could have been many more worse injuries I could have sustained. And honestly, as I’ve said before, it probably would have healed faster if I’d actually given it a chance to heal rather than pounding it into the pavement for 15 miles a day after two days of “rest.”
Let’s hope it doesn’t happen again.