It's eleven weeks since my last physio appointment with my miracle worker Vicki. 'How have you been?' Quite frankly, I've been stiff and stiffening on a daily basis for the past, well, feels like a million weeks. I sprained my ankle, (for no reason really, no dramatic trip, fall, just a twinge after a jog, which turned into pain and an enormous, elephantesque swollen ankle, for weeks on end.)
And so, I didn't, couldn't jog for weeks, then when I might have been able to, it was only two or three weeks before the wedding and I couldn't risk having an enormous ankle and being unable to get the fabulous, nude, patent leather, sling back heels on to go with the dress I'd decided on. So I didn't jog for another few weeks. As well as not jogging, I also got out of the habit of doing my daily little stretches. Well, it all added up and conspired against me. All contributed to seize me up, good style.
Vicki, bless her cotton socks, managed to stretch out my 30 minute appointment to 40 minutes. Can't tell you how grateful I was or how sore I was afterwards, for at least 3 days, it was probably 4 days if I'm being honest. It's the sorest I have ever been following a physio session and it was like looking into the future, if I don't do my part, look where it will get me.
Looks like I need to 'embrace' working out, once more.
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