An Open Letter to the Knot in My Calf (Read 498 times)

Dear Evil Knot in My Calf, I think I know how your existence began. It is entirely my fault. I blew you out with some calf extensions and I'm not so great at remembering to stretch. You earned your right to remind me that I am a moron. That said, I've given you an entire week to hang out down there. I even took up SWIMMING so I wouldn't get lazy. You pretended to go away and I thought I was fine (aside from when I poked at you and you just gave me an indifferent "Eh?"), but on my short run last night you decided to come back and say, "HI!! REMEMBER ME??!" as soon as I started running with any semblance of speed. Fine. Hi, Evil Knot in My Calf. I am sick of you. I am calling the massage therapist today. She is going to end you. Did you hear that? END YOU END YOU END YOU. See what happens when I can't run? love, sistinas ps. This pretty much sums up my problem (down to "Even if there is no pain and you can run..."), except there was no race or marathon involved. Seems like decent advice. I hope the massage works.

Evil Knot, It's been BROUGT. 9am tomorrow. love, sistinas ps. I'd call you Bob except unlike Knot, you don't rhyme with brought.

Good news and bad news - The Evil Knot in My Calf appears to have been completely eradicated by my awesome massage therapist. In bad news I was kind of inebriated and watched "Stick It" last night, that gymnastics movie. I did competitve gymnastics for four years as a kid, and well, I wanted to see if I could remember some of the routines and in the process I think I hyperextended the big toe on my left foot. It sorta feels like there's a splinter in there, but there's no splinter. Woops. I am the queen of freak accidents.