Death of an iPod: A Blog in Two Acts

I've mentioned here before that it's hard for me to run without playing significant mind games (pretending to be invisible, conjuring James Franco, etc.). My iPod was a major player in my self deception — it was the soundtrack to whatever movie happened to be playing in my head. It was the feather to my Dumbo. The security blanket to my Linus.

Then I broke it.

Well, I think I broke it. I dropped it and then it worked fine, and I rejoiced. A couple days later, it started acting funny (also known as The Great Halloween Haunting). Finally, it stopped for good. Running without an iPod was scary for me, but I did it, and I'm glad I cleared that hurdle. I don't NEED it anymore. But I still kind of want it.

Happily, my fellow Triathabloggers have my back. As soon as Amanda heard my iPod was broken, she offered to lend me one she rarely uses. Oh joy! Not to be outdone, Elisa's letting me borrow her Nike Plus system that works with an iPod to help you track your runs. (She actually took her shoe off in the middle of Starbucks, pulled the tracker out of its sole, and threw it at me.)

So my friends have saved the music, as it were. Even more important, I have a couple Physical Therapist friends who helped me save my knee.

Allison Ashby confirmed my internet diagnosis of Runner's Knee and reminded me that a bag of frozen peas makes a good icepack (I used edamame, but she still gets credit). And Amanda Lane mentioned that taking ibuprofen straight for a couple days could kick the lingering pain out of my knee, which it totally did.

I guess the moral is, keep your Triathablog friends (Allison and Amanda Lane) close, and your Triathablog enemies (Elisa and Amanda) closer. That, and try not to drop your iPod.

Injuries Speak Louder than Words

I've diagnosed myself, via internet, with Runner's Knee. This fills me with a perverse sense of pride: I might have doubted my athletic prowess (see my last entry), but my right knee believes I'm a runner, and it's giving me the aches and pains to prove it.

According to one site, "this is not your knee's fault." The blame shifting here appeals to me. As long as we're pointing fingers, I'd like to put the fault for this injury on Elisa and Amanda. Or the economy. Say, maybe my eight-year-old knee used to hang out with terrorists.

The real culprits, it turns out, are my quads (already, I'm sounding athletic!), my feet, or my shoes. (Are we SURE it's not Wall Street?)

The good news is, I shouldn't have to stop running. I'm supposed to decrease my mileage, take ibuprofen, and ice my knee after I run. Also, avoid running downhill and walking down stairs (although living in a third-floor walk-up makes this difficult).

Normally, I'd quit running until the pain went away, but I've been ignoring it because I didn't want to lose Triathablog points. Bad blog! On the other hand, I'm not sure it's practical to quit running every time I feel an injury coming on. Maybe it's better to know the cause of the injury so I can stretch better, strengthen my quads, and go by the Trak Shack for some new running shoes. Blogging redeems itself!

This inconvenience got me thinking. What if I get sick, or tired, or really involved in CW programming? Maybe it's time to take preventative action: Get more iron (we vegetarians have to watch it), lay off the caffeine (okay, go easy on the caffeine), remind myself that I can watch Gossip Girl later on iTunes. I guess it's about time I replace McDonalds with vegetables. Besides, I can't believe I haven't won Monopoly yet, anyway.