"I Wanna Run, Dude!"

I woke up the morning of last week's PT appointment, feeling like I hadn't gotten the good 7 hours of sleep that I actually had, like it wasn't the first time in weeks I didn't wake up in the middle of the night. I already knew Jeffery wasn't getting a morning walk today. I just felt so sluggish, I immediately became selfish and opted for some ball throwing instead. 

Maybe coffee would help. The very thought of coffee seemed to unappetizing, but I figured, "Well, I did eat at 9:30 pm last night. Why would anything sound good right now?" But, I made it anyway, blended in my butter, coconut oil and collagen protein (oh, BTW, I've gone Bulletproof for breakfast and mostly paleo for the rest of my meals - oddly, no I don't miss carbs that much). 

I got dressed, packed my work clothes, gave Jeff some love and headed for physical therapy. For the first time, I was 5 minutes late. 

PT asks how I am.

"I don't feel great, actually, but my hip feels good."

Didn't want him to think the not feeling great had anything to do with the hip, even though it was a little stiff. But hey, I did more over the past two weeks. Went back to the elliptical, more squats, the single leg buffet - those changes mean a more stiff hip for awhile, right?

He asks what is going on, and I say I don't really know. I just had a delicious decaff lavender latte with honey and almond milk last night, but it feels like I had two bottles of champagne instead. 

"Hmmm."

No, really. I just had the latte. It wasn't spiked. I promise. 

"Your hip is a little more stiff than usual."

"Oh?" I say, "Did you also know there is a wireless modem above your head?"

PT doesn't get distracted, and spends a lot more time on mobility than he usually does. Some amount of time later, he says,

"I think we should just make today a mobility day, since  your hip is just a little tight and you aren't feeling well."

"Noooooooo," I say.

"No?"

"I wanna run, dude! We were supposed to start plyometrics today!" My voice sounds a little more whiny than I intend. But, I am not feeling well and I can't help it. I can feel my eyes start to well up, and small tears spill out despite my efforts not to. This can't be happening. Eight months. It's been eight freaking months. I've been patient. I've been a [mostly] good patient. 

It's quiet for a bit, unusual, because I'm usually super chatty. I finally say, "If you insist, I'm coming back next week."

"That's fine."

"But I really want to work today."

So he agrees that if I can do squats without pinching, then I can do plyometrics. I squat, repeatedly, and it doesn't hurt. He looks at me, and I swear I'm not lying. By the look on PTs face, he doesn't want to let me start this, but he is standing by his word. 

He gets out the agility ladder and we run a few drills. I already can't remember if I did two or three ... so I'll have to Google that later. Then, I go on the trampoline, jump for 3 rounds of 20 seconds on both feet, then jog in place for 3 rounds of 20 seconds. Then, I repeat the same thing on the floor. 

PT watches me closely on the floor and when I'm done, he asks if I have any pain. I say I don't. 

He says he's surprised at how well I tolerated it, that there wasn't any buckling at all. I wasn't surprised, but he doesn't know I was doing burpees the other day. 

I sincerely thank him for letting me do that. He says, 

"I was reluctant to let you, but you looked good."

"I know," I say, "that's why I mean it when I say 'Thank you'."

He says he will see me in two weeks and to get 3-4 rounds of those drills in, on top of the other exercises. You all know I will. 

I narrowly avoided one of the biggest mental setbacks in this whole recovery. My emotions didn't know what to do with all the tears that had been prepped to spill. So, I ellipticalled. 

Constant. Forward. Progress.