Training Update: 28 December 2009


So, as expected, I’ve been hard at work eating. It is the holidays, after all, so I’m just going to be thankful that my gym clothes are stretchy.

I had my appointment for my second opinion with my new extra super sports medicine doctor (ESSMD) earlier this week. I describe him as, “extra super” because not only did my physio recommend him, but after receiving a fax about my intentions to seek a second opinion from ESSMD, my GP actually called up, raved about him, and mentioned that he is the consultant physician to the England rugby union.

Anyway, the ESSMD checked out my scans and agreed that I don’t have a normal MRI. Looking at the cross section scans, the nerve is definitely a bit compromised.

Given that, I have two options:
A. Have an epidural, performed by a doctor referred by the ESSMD
B. Resume all my old exercise slowly, and see if the situation worsens. Supposedly, I can’t really do further permanent damage to myself, and my worst case is that the nerve flares up badly again.

I’ve opted for plan B. From what I gather, the epidural is likely an inevitability, but I would prefer to put it off a bit, if possible. Besides, I have a new gym membership that is very convenient for my new digs that I’m so looking forward to.

So, I went for my first bit of running in over two months last Tuesday. On the treadmill, two minutes jog, one minute walk for the most part. It’s not particularly exciting, but it’s a start. The nerve hurts a bit, so we’ll see how this goes. My physiotherapist is away for the next few weeks, so this is a good bit of test time.

With any luck, it will all go well, and these posts can start getting interesting.

A number of people have asked me how my upcoming move will affect my plans for Franc v. Tube, as following a move to a new flat in January, my despised commute will be a thing of the past.

I do plan to do my little train race, even with a new home location. I’ll just have to pick up a beer along the way to drink on the finish line of my old front step, rather than collecting one from my old flat.

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