One of the things I felt necessary to do before leaving BYU is join an intramural team. It just seemed so fun, and everyone cool does it, yadayada. Unfortunately I'm not the most athletic individual as far as hand-eye coordination is concerned. Also, growing up it would appear that I never did stick to a sport besides Cross Country and Track, if you can count that. I've played a little bit of a lot of things, but I never really got good at anything. Combine this unfortunate fact with the other fact being that my friends are just like me. Therefore, I've never gotten invited to join an intramural team, nor have I been brave or knowledgeable enough to start my own. However, this all changed this year! Finally my dreams came true in the form of an intramural kickball team composed of EFY counselors from this past summer, AND, I was invited to join. This was the perfect scenario that needed to happen in order for my bucket-list item to be checked off. We've had two games so far, which have been fun. I am actually not too shabby at this game. I have only gotten out one time, when others who shall not be named who boasted about how good they are at this game repeatedly have gotten out every single time they've kicked. In its fun, however, there has been danger. Each time I've played at the end of the night I've had a new injury of some sort. The first week was minor, someone accidentally stomped on my ankle, causing a lovely bruise. They didn't even know they stepped on it...but it is fine. The second week (this week), something more dramatic happened.
The game was on Wednesday night. Earlier in the day I had gone to the gym and ran for 30 min or so, and then biked for another 30. Biking is not something I am accustomed to, but is something I thought might be good for me. Directly following the gym I went home and accidentally took a nap until it was time to go to work. At work I sat at a desk for 4 hours. (If you are observant you may note the total absence of any form of stretching). Straight from work I went to Kickball, and I was in the first group up to kick, fourth kicker I think. When it was my turn, and I felt the ball connect with my foot and took my first step out to run to first base I could tell something was wrong. My quads felt like the muscles had frozen up, and like the muscle as separating from the bone. It was a very painful sprint to first, but I made it. The sprint to second base only hurt more and by the time I was running to third it wasn't running anymore, it was hobbling--slowly. My team was yelling at me, and were all confused as to what in the world I was doing. Was it all an act for dramatic affect? The other team over threw the ball as I got to third, so I hobbled to home plate, nearly in tears. I can't quite describe what my legs felt like, but it felt something like the muscles snapped or something. I don't know. I immediately sat down, and people realized that I wasn't faking anything, and offered to help. A kind girl tried to massage my legs out for me. After going home, I identified that the hurt muscles were my hip flexors, the part that crosses across your quads. I iced and took Advil and all that jazz. The next day my legs felt swollen, and were still quite tender.
I talked to all the experts and almost experts I know, and looked stuff up online to see what I had done to myself, and to see when I could go running again. It was really stressing me out that I was hurt, because I really needed to be continuing my training for the marathon which is in three weeks. Everyone I talked to suggested that I stay off it for a while, and just take it really easy so that I didn't hurt myself more. But all along, I had the thought in the back of my mind to ask for a blessing. Friday evening I finally followed the feeling I had and asked my friend Richard and his buddy if they wouldn't mind giving me a priesthood blessing, so that my leg would heal quickly.
So that was last night. Afterwords I decided that as far as the long run we had planned for this morning I would just go and see how I felt, and if I needed to walk all 16 miles that was fine, as long as I went the distance. Plus, I really hated to let down my running partner. So this morning I woke up, got ready, and we ran. And I felt no pain. Zero. It is completely healed. I went from being in pain yesterday, and wondering if I should run at all, to running 16.2 miles and liking it. I consider this a miracle! Now, other things did hurt besides my hip flexors, but nothing out of the normal pain that occurs when running long distances. Plus, it was a beautiful beautiful run. We ran down American Fork Canyon which is incredible. I can't believe how close to the mountains we live. Every Saturday we are lucky enough to just pick a canyon and go for jolly little run down into the valley. No big deal. :)
Summary: Running is fun. Miracles happen. God loves me. Running is also addictive, and should be done with caution. The mountains are pretty. Kickball is dangerous.
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