Day 92: The Back Strikes Back
After yesterday’s promising threshold run, it really felt like I had turned a corner. Unfortunately, my back had other ideas. I woke at around 4 a.m. to a gnawing pain in my lower back and then again at 6:30 am just in case I’d forgotten about it. It was back, and it was demanding attention—ignoring it was about as effective as ignoring a tax bill. The Roast That Broke Me Despite this unwelcome development, I pressed on with my pre-Mother’s Day errands, determined not to let a bit of pain disrupt the grand plan. By midday, I was in full roast-dinner mode, cooking up a feast for the family. Now, I suspect that standing for hours over a hot stove, lifting heavy trays and wrestling with an uncooperative joint of meat are not top-tier recommendations for lower back recovery. But if you’re going to suffer, you might as well do it surrounded by gravy and Yorkshire puddings. A Laughable Promise Somewhere in between basting and boiling, I made a bold commitment: I would run after dinner. In hi...