Or, more accurately, on my hands, rolling my shrieking quadriceps into the ninth dimension of hell.
I’m getting ahead of myself.
My knees have been giving me bother for a few weeks now. There is a dull ache, on and off throughout the day at the bottom of my knee cap, and sometimes behind my knee cap when I do squats. This has caused much frustration and swearing at my knees under my breath. The kind of swearing that would make sailors look at you in disgust. I’ve been to the GP. He said rest. I’ve been to the physio. She said keep going, but do some squats do build up strength around the joint. I went for a sports massage. She said “foam roller the hell out of [my] lower leg.”
Since Tuesday I have been resting. So far, minimal change.
Today, I had my boyfriend venture to the local running shop for a
limb destroyer foam roller. I’ve just been in, outright abusing my lower body, and can honestly say it is not one of the most pleasant experiences I have had. The same pain you get during a spots massage when you’re told to “take deep breaths, this might be a bit intense,” is on par with what this foam roller can inflict on you. I had no idea something so benign-looking could cause my heart rate to spike just by staring at it and remembering that merely 5 minutes ago, I was yelling “Mother Fucking Shit Fists!” in my empty flat whilst “relaxing” my muscles.
In fairness, my legs feel pretty good afterwards, and I might even notice a slight improvement in knee pain (or it could be that the aforementioned quad-rape has distracted me temporarily from my ailments). I’m going to keep up the torture, and hopefully I’ll manage next Saturday’s parkrun.