Happy I’m not. And the Springsteen lyric

It’s like someone took a knife, baby, edgy and dull and cut a six-inch valley through the middle of my soul

except it’s an ice-pick and it’s sharp and pointed.

Over the past months, with a few brief exceptions, I’d been running quite well. Not necessarily fast, but I was stringing together a nice stretch of quality work-outs and more important enjoying my runs for their own sake more than I sometimes did.

A couple of weeks back, I felt a pain in my left knee on the treadmill after about 20 minutes. Nothing to worry about. No problems the next day. It struck again about two-and-a-half miles into the next day’s run. So I stopped, took five days off, headed to the track, and made it about 700 meters before it hit again. Five days off and again to the track, where (last night) I felt fine for 500 meters before, boom, it felt like someone had put that ice-pick into the knee. Not something I could even think of trying to run through.

So I’m not happy. I planned on running Steve Lastoe’s 5K in Riverside Park this morning, and it turned out to be great weather for it, but that didn’t happen. I’m planning on doing the Ekiden with Amy, Brenn, and Tavia in three weeks. I hope to be OK by then.

And thus endeth my status report. Rest, ice, some quad strengthening. We’ll see how that works.