I had my first 'bout of "tissue therapy" scheduled today. What this entailed was beyond me. Since I was finally out of pain I figured I should get my Z1/Z2 easy spin before PT as I didn't know know what laid ahead. Do to the location of PT and the God forsaken AM rush hour I was forced to mount an icky spin bike vs. my beloved Carnage which also meant I had to get up at 4:45am. Ugh - Bah humbug. I get on the bike and try to clip in. Nothing. Oy! Forgot Speedplay's don't work with SPD pedals %^#$%#%^#$%^&!!! So I was forced to use the foot cages. I strapped in, started spinning and was looking forward to getting lost in my book. But I never got lost, instead I was bothered by an annoying spin neighbor and the 20 questions he had. The whole 75 minutes I was tortured by my tool of a neighbor, bored out of my mind in Z1/Z2 and uncomfortably locked in foot cages. Does it get any better?
Oh Yes it does!
AM PT - The ART of Graston Therapy . The name Graston makes me think of an evil doctor who likes to play with sterling tools in his basement while torturing his victims. Why must it be a "he"? Because men are the root of all evil, pretty sure of this. Anywho "Mark" we'll call him asks me what I think my pain tolerance is. 1-10. I rate myself a 9. I'm a pretty tough cookie (sweet and spicy might I add, like a ginger snap!) and can be cooked hot while still remaining chewy...but I'm not burnt. Mmmm, I want a cookie now. OyI Off track I went, back on I must go. Have I lost ya yet? When I ask him why he wanted to know his answer was "This is going to hurt. You need to know this and be prepared for it." He was then kind enough to strap my foot down because some "victims" have a kicking reflect. He starts by warming my calves, achilies, heel and arch with an ultra sound. It was warm and kind of tickled. Then he takes an instrument that I think resembles a garden hoe and starts scraping my calves lightly. The texture of my calves make me think of riding my bike of chip seal...bad vibrations. At this point he was only pre-riding the course....moments later he laid the pressure on the garden hoe. Oy! The initial scraping hurt but quickly my endorphins kicked in and it felt good....kind of like a tattoo. That good pain lasted only on the left side, the less serious side. The right side never felt good. It hurt like a mother****er the entire time. I will be proud to say I never once had the urge to kick. I just bit my lip instead. The procedure wasn't all that bad. 10 minutes or so of sharp pain. What I should have been warned about was the the aftermath. For the next 4-5 hours my arches, heel and achillies burned. It felt like someone had lit them on fire. Not only felt but looked like as well as my feet turned brightly orange and red. The subsided after a few hours and I started to bruise. I get to look forward to this twice a week. Does this count as mental training?
My energy was low throughout the day and my body felt ill. I was poisoned by lactic toxins. And the whip cream of the cherry? My soul hurts for making someone's heart ache.
One positive foot in front of the other...repeat after me.