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Something Was Not Right

I can tell you this now, as I think back on what happened from the vantage point of someone who has recovered…

1. Going Jogging

It seemed like a good idea at the time: go for a short jog on Monday/Wednesday/Friday while we were all locked down at home. A lame substitute perhaps for the 5K races that Trudy and I had been running in better times a few weeks earlier, but it seemed to be a good plan from both a physical and mental health point of view. 

That first Monday was fine. It was just a slow jog, after all, so how could it not be fine? And Wednesday was fine, too. It was a brisk, sunny day — warm enough that I wore shorts, cool enough that I wore light running gloves. It felt good to be moving, although my lower back was stiff as I stretched afterwards. Still, mild lower back soreness has been with me for a long time, and I hadn’t stretched for a while, so whatever.

But the soreness got worse during the day and even worse into the next. 

“Do you want an ice pack?” Trudy asked on Thursday night as we lay in bed. 

I groaned a meek “yes” and then a relieved “aaah” when she returned and slipped a frozen pack behind my lower back.

2. Getting Out of Bed

Friday should have been my third jogging morning. I was looking forward to it.

“How’s your back?” the Fair and Industrious Trudy asked.

“Kinda worse,” I said, not really thinking anything of it.

I rolled over and started to get out of bed. Instantly a severe, cramp began in my lower back, spread into my glutes, wrapped around to my hip flexors, and shot down my quads and shins.

“Oh!” I instantly yelled. “Oh, oh!” 

I yanked my legs back onto the bed, rolled onto my back, and lay flat, panting, and motionless.

Something was definitely not right.