Look here, Junior. Don't you be so happy.

That evening, following my last run, my hip hurt a bit. I stand more than I used to, which makes the pain not happen, if you follow me. It's like that old joke;

Patient: Doctor! Doctor! It hurts when I do this.
Doctor: Then don't do that.

Sitting all winter, at my desk, at home writing, it hurt my tuchus. So, nu? Don't sit so much.

Distance: 1 mile
Route: Monticello Track

Best. Joke. Ever.

Then there is the eating, which has gotten a bit out of control. I have gotten out of the habit of packing lunch, which is how you control your budget, but also your portion size. The other night I remembered to cut my sandwich at a restaurant in half to take the other half home, but that takes a supreme effort of will.

But it doesn't always. When I get used to smaller portions, I get used to smaller portions. I must get back to that. Also, not eating half a bag of Doritos on a Friday night.

Temperature: 66°
Climate: glorious
Mood: better

Rode my bike to the middle school track, took five laps and home. Felt good. The exercises help. My back hurt in a very unhappy-making place for twenty-four hours, by last night it was gone.

I wonder if I will run long-distance again without pain.

Baseline: 174 lbs.
Today: 171.5 lbs. (+2.0)
Goal: 165 lbs.
Ideal: 160 lbs.

Yes, I have seriously crashed. Back into the 170s. This is depression eating, a compensation for a lack of other things. I do not need a psychologist to tell me this, I know it while I am doing it. It feels good. And it has to stop.

Man. I haven't even had breakfast today. That's empty stomach weight - only after last night, my stomach is not yet empty.

Here's the thing, I need to get to my normal weight - 165 lbs. - for a very good reason. That is where my summer shorts fit most comfortably.

What's That Lyric?
Marquee Moon - Television

Slow down before we fall down.

That's too much, man!

Therapist recommends a treadmill, or track. Something not as shocking as pavement. There is a decent track at the middle school, so that is where I am headed.

To keep me occupied during stretches, I have been binge-watching BoJack Horseman. God, some of this is bleak. I do not know whether that is currently a good thing or a bad thing.

Distance: 1 mile
Route: Monticello Track

Walked to the middle school. Eight minutes. The wife asked recently why I was so irritated when the kids ask for a ride to school. I know I asked for rides to middle school and my mother would oblige, I also took the RTA up the street sometimes, because then it was pretty cheap to take the bus.

My middle school was a mile from my house, which is not long, a twenty minute walk. But we live less than half a mile from our kids' school. It takes eight minutes. When they can walk, they should walk. When the weather is very poor, or they are injured, or not feeling well, or have a large package to transport, sure.

Because their walking or not walking isn't really the issue. It is that I hate driving to the middle school. I hate starting the engine of my car, and burning gasoline to go less than one half mile. Turning onto the main boulevard during rush hour, idling at the stoplight, negotiating the parking lot during drop-off. That's what really makes me unhappy.

Driving to the middle school to go to the track, like driving to the gym - driving to exercise - it just drives me a little crazy. Parking so I can have a run. It makes sense in Athens, when the roads around my in-laws do not have sidewalks and the bike path is a mile or so away, that I can justify. But not driving to the track around the corner.

My daughter got to walk to her school for three years, my son for only one. I have lived around the corner from that school for getting near a quarter century, and I only got three years worth out of it. Hrumph.

Temperature: 72°
Climate: bright, sunny, beautiful
Mood: not good

Felt okay. Going to stretch now.

What's That Lyric?
Millennium - Robbie Williams

Oh my God, the season three finale of BoJack Horseman. Jesus Christ, universe. What the fuck are you doing to me?

Here we go down a long dark road.

Today is the Cleveland Marathon. Last year it snowed. This year, my wife encouraged me to take a brief, to see how it feels.

Distance: .85 miles
Avg. Pace: 9:13
Duration: 7:49
Route: One time around the clock

Did my stretches first, which is weird, because I never stretch before I run. Took it easy, or as easy as I could. Yes, the therapist told me to wait until after I saw him next, but the wife suggested I do this. And at the moment, the only thing that hurts are my knees. Odd

Temperature: 66°
Climate: cool, overcast, humid
Mood: all right

Last night the daughter and I walked home from the middle school, because there was no room in the car (not an interesting story why) and she was walking fast. She was exhausted from a day at Cedar Point, but she was trucking, and it was hard for me to keep up.

Metaphors, please. Go ahead. Hit me with your metaphors.

Baseline: 174 lbs.
Today: 169.5 lbs. (+5.0)
Goal: 165 lbs.
Ideal: 160 lbs.

Yes and I gained five pounds in the past month. Not a big surprise there. Another five and I will be right back where I started. Is it necessary to run to keep my weight under control? It better not be.

What's That Lyric?
Do I Have To Talk You Into It? * - Spoon

Physical therapy.

Last night I took a brisk walk around the soccer field but not for as long as I had planned. The exercises continue, and at my appointment a few days ago I neglected to ask the therapist if I could resume running, or if I should.

The girl is struggling to move up to peak performance after a lag time between futsal and soccer, and recuperation following a mild concussion. She has developed shin splints (we believe) but unlike previous injuries she is confidently making plans to work through it, with bandages and proper exercises.

This is my own concern. Should I attempt to plow through my pain? Ibuprofen helps, the exercises help. Actually, just not sitting so much for so often helps. I had shin splints when I first trained for a marathon, over ten years ago. It felt like running with a broken leg, which is much how the girl describes it.

I was running fast last winter, but through this pain. It seems stupid to continue, like I am only making it worse for myself. I wanted to apply for the 2018 New York Marathon, to run it when I turned fifty. Now I am not sure that can happen.

Interlude

Visited the physical therapist yesterday. Resuming a regimen of lower back pain exercises. My slipped disc may be a contributing factor to the sciatica, something out of place touching something else. I didn't get it, but whatever.

Yesterday I did the exercises in the morning, which made my sciatica act up throughout the day. Sitting through a play was murderous, and so was the play. But I dutifully did them again last thing last night, and again first thing this morning.

I had written every morning this week, but today we slept in a little, I did my exercises. It is frustrating when physical limitations get in the way of the work.

Good news, good news.

Physical therapy is at an end. Melissa discharged me today with a guide for future at-home and in-gym workouts. I can run two miles, twice a week for two weeks. Then three miles, twice a week. Then three miles, three times a week.

I'll hold there for a while.

And now a word from Rose Tyler ...

Yes I Can

My God, physical therapy was grueling this morning.

Last Monday I had to bug out shortly after I had started to cover for another of our actor-teachers, and scheduled this mid-week substitution. Melissa had some never exercises planned which really taxed my thighs, I was shaking.

Of course, it did not help that I had four hours of sleep last night. Or all that Southern Comfort.

David's Classic Southern Comfort Recipe
2 shots Southern Comfort
Ice cubes

Melissa says one more session in the clinic, then she gives me an at-home regimen to follow. Maybe I will resume running next week. Maybe a black man will win the presidency.

Here's your post-Election Night wake-up call:

Hips (still) don't lie

Monday I worked the treadmill for the second time. I felt winded. And I was painfully (that's not the right word) aware of my knees. The pressure on my knees. The impact on my knees. Not just my left knee, my right knee. Running is a terrible thing to do to your body.

And that old, familiar ache in my right hip. On my second, short jog. Hey, old man, step aside!

My wife told me something I had not heard before (because I do not know what I am doing) about the importance of weight training as part of a good regimen. Strong muscles help cushion the blows in running. When you do not have strong calves, thighs, quads, then the only thing to cushion the jarring effect of running is the cartilage and bone. And I have felt the results.

PT has given me much stronger legs, and I hope to continue keeping them in shape as long as I choose to run. When I run. When I run.

Lately I have been hovering around 160. And the holidays are coming up. Can I say no? Can I decline that which is offered?

Boring but beautiful.

It's migraine weather. And my prescription is out of date. I am trying to hold off serious pain by taking otc meds, they worked last year. The Imitrex has gotten so expensive, I calculate how many hours a day I need to work in order to justify taking one.

No stretches this morning, I needed to sleep. I took two Benadryl last night, which hit me over the head good and tight. I hope to make up for that later today. At PT yesterday Melissa had me on the jumping machine. Weird!

Sunday the entire creative staff got together for a reading at Ali's. That's when I clocked an hour fifteen. I wish a playwriting fairy would light on my shoulder and tell me exactly which part I should dump to bring this beast down to size.

At PU last night, two very helpful observations were made ... if this play is about what runs through a guy's head while he's running the race (not my original intent, but that's how SG described it, and so he says, so it is) then the history of Marathon is not that.

And MO said it is "beautiful but boring," which he obviously meant as a critique of EC's reading abilities, but that's okay, EC is still a nice guy.

It's a warning. The names are difficult to follow, the story is well-known (except to those in the room for whom it wasn't) and it doesn't sound like me. A challenge.

The second regards THE ICON, and that I should just say what it is. So what if the Angel at Bethesda has been mentioned or pictured in everything from Godspell to Angels In America? Don't make it diffuse.

I give up.

The show's going to be 1 hour 15 minutes. There's no way of getting around that.

Friday marked four weeks since I began physical therapy. I may be on the treadmill - walking - tomorrow morning. Cross your fingers.

OMG!

Not a good morning. The boy was up many times last night with nightmares ... he often tells us he is having nightmares when he is wide awake, I wonder if this is a ploy or if he is truly having bad thoughts. Knew we shouldn't have watched that Thomas the Tank Engine Halloween special, that was kinda spooky.

Anyway, he was up - a lot - in the middle of the night (really, I'm not kidding about that Thomas DVD) and then there's the fact that I just crash after day after day or rising at 5.30 to do strenuous (for me) exercises for an hour and a half.

Today I slept in (which is to say, past 5.30) thinking I could catch maybe a half-hour of stretches before heading off to work, and make up the rest later.

Squats are to be performed until the thigh and calf are at a ninety degree angle. This requires weight placed directly over the heels, not the middle of the foot. Two weeks ago we added a free weight that I hold straight out from my chest as I squat. After one round of squats, steps and pointwork, I began the next round of squats ...

And dropped my ass almost to the floor. No pain. I could squat that far. I couldn't squat that far before the incident.

I felt a little overwhelmed .. and then the crying started. I howled for about half a minute. I have been keeping so much anxiety and sorrow about this injury inside for so long I just popped. It was amazing. Wow.

Push the Button

The other day I wore a pair of slacks I haven't worn since 2004. Gained a pound yesterday, but the out-laws are in town. Eat and drink we must.

The past several days my knee has begun to hurt in the way it used to ... they say this is normal, Dr. V. even asked if I still had the heavy-duty pain medication. For real? I am being encouraged to pop a Vicodin when the pain gets troublesome? How about morphine?

I am sticking to naproxen and the occasional (rare) ice-pack. I should probably do the icepack more often. Like right now.

Here's your morning wake-up call:

Had my first read-through with Ali yesterday, came in around 1:10. That isn't bad - considering I have so much I know I need to cut.

The physical therapy is becoming a concern, I think. Maybe. I can't tell. I mean, I didn't think I would be 100% immediately - or that I would be 100% ever. It is amazing how far I can bend my knee at all. It keeps improving. And yet ...

On Monday, Melissa asked me to do a move I just couldn't do - which was disheartening. I couldn't put my foot onto the bench behind me (3 feet off the ground) it was too much of a stretch for my knee.

Will I ever kneel again? Even a little bit? I haven't been able to put that kind of pressure on my knee since before I was injured. Will I run, let alone ever do any long distance running? No idea. Can I even do this show? Remains to be seen.

hit me baby one more time

Went in yesterday for PT, and we started using machines. I was in there for an hour last Friday, almost two yesterday. Melissa added to my reps and now my home workout has gone from 60 to 90 minutes, I need to get up at 5.30 just to get it all in.

But you know, they're a good 90 minutes. I listen to Capital Radio and enjoy an hour and a half of pop music and active solitude. It's almost like running.

Well, no, but it has elements in common with running. Which is not the same thing.

Meanwhile, something about this ordeal has resulted in a full-on re-emergence of my meralgia. I think it was the way I need to lie while my left knee was still actively in pain. But that awful, screaming feeling in my right thigh returns whenever I lie down, unless I crush it by resting on my right side, which is difficult to do all night. So I was up several times last night.

Hope I can stay awake for PR tonight. Veronica is such a bitch.

Solitude

Phys Therp has kicked my ass. Fact is, I walk without a limp and was able to play my part in the big ceremony last night without anyone being able to tell I'd even had knee surgery 11 days earlier.

However, bending my knee is still limited. I can hardly comprehend ever being "normal" - it feels like there is a piece of foam rubber tucked under my knee cap. But I have been a good boy and done the hour's worth of exercises the past two days. I see the pro again on Tuesday.

I have two hours to myself (which I am squandering on blogs) in which to work on the script. Unfortunately, I went to the Phoenix on Coventry first, which is peaceful - and packed on Sunday afternoons. I am now at the Phoenix on Lee which is chatty with loud music and has servers WHO NEVER SHUT UP.

Sorry. Just had to get that off my chest. But seriously. They never shut up.

Incorporation

This morning the boy got up early, shortly after I did, and I put him to work. We needed to sweep up my office after I took up the ancient rug to create a clean flat space to do my daily therapy workout.

Not only was he extremely eager and helpful in the sweeping department, we had a nice conversation and he stuck with me while I did almost half of my workout before asking to please do something else. His life is composed of those activities I need to do that I can get him to do with me before I give up and put him front of the set because I am not done yet.

Mr. S. is going to be a little stiff-legged at the big gala tonight, but cut him a break he's 444 years-old.

Meanwhile, I need to revisit the script to this solo performance I am supposedly presenting in January. The first gathering of the new playwrights' unit is on Monday and I hope to provide ten pages that aren't warmed over.

I'm sorry, where am I?

We can rebuild him

First date of physical therapy. Not the most difficult thing I have ever done. But I am so queasy about undoing the work my surgeon did, any little pull makes me a little sick.

These aren't the pains, which come from the bruised areas, but the part just below the patella where it feels like something is duct-taped together in there, and I am stretching it apart.

It took an hour, and I was surprisingly weak by the end (why the surprise?) but I feel really good now, and much more confident that I am mending properly. Something about professional supervision does that to me. I guess I would make an excellent camp guard, my college roommate always said so.