There hasn’t been any sweat in my life in 5 weeks. This cat understands me, on a deep deep level.

He just. He gets it. Just like me, there’s no running. There’s no participating in all the physical activities that make him feel great. There’s no chasing mice. Ok. Maybe that last one isn’t like me. But his sad little nod and bandaged leg is on point.

Another week of RICE on my left knee after that last post, it was feeling better. I was pumped. I thought for sure a couple more days I’d be golden. And then I kneeled on it. And the heat of a thousand suns exploded inside it and for 24 hours I couldn’t move it. Which made packing and hauling a week’s worth of stuff down from Jennie’s 3rd floor apartment after dogsitting super, super fun. That finally pushed me over the edge; call the doctor. To be fair, I wanted to do it sooner. But I kept being away from my phone when it hurt and forgetful when it wasn’t hurting. This time, it hurt all day, real bad. And I remembered. I went to see my primary care, she poked around, and sent me to PT.

I asked around and settled on Joint Ventures in Boston after a few strong recommendations. And those recs were spot on. My PT is awesome. That’s not to say that I don’t have terrible, mean, awful words in my head when I’m in the torture therapy room. But she’s great at answering my questions. And explaining why my IT Band is such an asshole and can’t kept its ish in line. And working out that, though the excruciating pain is on the inside of my knee, my overall gait is whack and its both my MCL and my IT Band at fault. Couple of jackasses I’ve got there in my left leg.

PT it gets such a bad rep and I don’t really understand why. I mean, I do. Because it hurts like a mother. But I think it feels fantastic to have a person tell you to move part of your body a certain way, say, a leg lift, and then point out where you’re supposed to feel the movement, what you’re doing wrong when you’re feeling it in the wrong place, and how to fix your mistakes. When the right muscle groups fire and move my body in the way I want it to, I feel so strong and badass. Bodies are awesome. Until they punk out and stop working the right way. And that’s why I’m at PT. Plus! My physical therapist thinks I’ll be able to run in PT in two weeks. And then transition back to running on my own. And that is just the best news ever. I miss running so much (see cat above). And the Tetons are faaaaaaast approaching.

Except, well. There’s that pain thing. Despite my initial pain being on the inside of my knee, along my MCL, the PT assessed that my IT Band was way, way worse. And after my initial visit and some deep tissue message (owie) on Thursday I returned on Monday for the first of my “regularly scheduled” visits. And she said “I want to get right back into that deep tissue message”. And I remembered how much it hurt last time, but how much better my knee was feeling. So I stripped off my leggings, laid on the table, and tried to find my happy place. And then this time it was a million trillion times worse. And I can’t even hate the PT, because I could already feel so much of the icky stuff broken up at the end of the session, I know it will feel better when the initial soreness is gone, and my PT was just the kindest while she was attempting to knife murder my IT Band. Still. Possibly the most painful thing I’ve ever experienced. And I have another appointment today and I’m terrified. Because it looks like someone slid for the game winning run right into my left knee – cleats first.

This is your my IT Band

This is your my IT Band on PT

(Let’s please ignore the blinding paleness of my legs in early March)

I’m really, really straight up scared. While I was getting dressed, I could already feel my stomach clenching. If she goes back for it today. I might actually cry. Except I think it hurts so much my body isn’t capable of crying. It’s too busy remembering to breathe. And not punch anyone. Do your IT band exercises kids!! The alternative is way worse!

Send ice cream (Damn it Liz, you’re trying to eat healthier).

Screw it. Send ice cream too. I can balance the pint on my knee while I eat, yes?