Grrr.

Grrr.

So, not being traditionally active (most of life spent horizontal on a couch), I am not well versed in the pains associated with a moving body. But, in some bizarre twist of alien possession fate, for the last 18 months I’ve been moving up from a slow lumber through a brisk walk and now to a proudly happy joggle.

The bugger is, that I’m not sure what is acceptable in terms of pain. I’m not confident I know the difference between stiffness and the re-animation-of-lard pain and oh-fuck-I’ve-broken-something pain. And being of high pain threshhold, this could be a serious problem.

So I pottered off to the Virgin No-so-reactive front desk and casually enquired about the sharp pains running down my leg between my shin and my calf muscle.

Secretly delighted to discover I might have my first “sports injury” (my mother actually laughed out loud) I was somewhat less delighted to discover that shin splints are caused by “going to hard, too fast” or by bad shoes.

Cue a puerile giggle from yours truly and then a raised eyebrow and a firm “unlikely” to the former option. I wish!

So it’s the shoes then. Dolce looks down at beautiful brand new adiddas trainers, fortunately won, and not bought. You bastards.

Mmmm. Bugger.

So I asked a few less physically challenged mates (who run marathons and stuff. Ejits.) how one goes about working out what are good shoes. They referred to the Sports Science Institute for a shoe assessment. It’s got a fancy technical name, um…. Running injury Prevention System…. but shoe assessment suits me fine.

So I go. For R145 some bouncy girlie makes me do weird things and run up and down a corridor before chirpily announcing that that my current shoes are crap and that I’ll need to buy new ones.

Mmm. Bugger.

So I take her little assessment form and potter down to the sports shop thingie. And hand the little assessment form over to some man who looks like he’s never done a days exercise in his life. He gushes enthusiastically about a new range that is on special for 20 gazillion rand. I raise a very disinterested and disdainful eyebrow (I am so fukkin’ sick to death of sales men. Sick Sick Sick!). He sheepishly takes me to another rack. I buy shoes. My credit card whimpers and curls up in the foetal position.

Great. So now I can train without feeling like the Little Mermaid.

So I get up bright and early. Pop onto the dreadmill. And run. It’s feeling good. Until it’s not. And what feels like a large splinter starts bothering my foot. So, I try and run through the pain. Can’t. Get off dreadmill and take shoe off. And spot a large, gigantic, enormous blister.

Pissed off.

Finish training and go home.

Try again the next day. Blister now covers most of the sole of my foot. I’m literally walking on water. And it hurts. Like buggery. (Or so I’m told)

So I phone shoe assessment lady and she burbles and chirps something about my feet getting used to the shoes and how I should wear them around the house until I’ve worn them in.

In the meantime, I twiddle my thumbs, unable to train the way I want to, just hoping that the problem is just one of if-the-shoe-doesn’t-fit. But surely, surely, these days, trainers shouldn’t give you blisters? On the soles of your feet. And I’m cynical, I know, but this feeling of being had just won’t go away. And I’m hoping it’s just my ignorance of all things joggle related.

Because I can’t afford another fukkin’ pair of shoes. Or another two weeks out of routine.

Grrrr.

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23 thoughts on “Grrr.

  1. kyknoord says:

    Call me cynical, but I’m pretty sure that “you have the wrong shoes” is the catch-all diagnosis. After all, how do you dispute it? Best of all, it’s recyclable – you’ll always have the wrong shoes.

  2. dolceii says:

    Oi, cynical! Ja, I agree. But you’d think, with the whole Tim Noakes endorsement and their whole we’re the top physical assessment, sports-medicine experts in the country statement, that they’d actually stake their reputation on their advice?

    Hey, we’ve got the same name.

    Pahtooey!

    I’m just so frikkin’ tired of being ripped off.

  3. Martin says:

    Running will always hurt. You need a bike, Dolce.

    Seeing as I know people in the industry, I can get you really good deal. Seriously. On the *right* bike.

  4. dolceii says:

    Ak! Martin. Thank you. Very much. But I’d rather poke forks into my eyes than cycle. It hurts my girl bits. And gives me such russian javelin thrower calves, I can’t wear my nice boots.

    Unless, of course, you’re talking about a motor bike. That I would lower my standards for.

    Ag. It’s not like I’m bouncing off to run the Two Oceans or anything. I prefer climing mountains. But if I have to be in the gym, the dreadmill is the least horrifying instrument of torture.

  5. Martin says:

    OK, fair enough if you don’t like it.

    Two things though
    1) All girls are scared of huge calves, but it’s a common myth that cycling has this effect. I’ve been a cyclist all my life, and I don’t have huge calves…

    2)Girl bits getting hurt, on the other hand, is solved via a seat that fits you well (read: not necessarily expensive, just the right shape) and good shorts.

    Haha, listen to me, I should be a salesman!

  6. dolceii says:

    Hey, I’ve had Tim Brink trying to convince me…and even HE can’t, so I guess I’m a lost cause. But I do like watching cyclists. They’ve got such lovely form.

    And

    1) maybe your legs are just generally huge and you don’t notice?

    2) those shorts make me giggle (sorry!)…padded bums.

    No, I’m being unfair. I’m just not over the first time I rode a bike and bashed into a tree. Scarred for life, I tell you.

  7. Have more sex. You don’t need shoes for that. Well, not for run-of-the-mill sex anyway.

  8. dolceii says:

    *Cackle*

    Oh darling. You should know me by now. ANY excuse to buy shoes! But you’re so right, run-of-the-mill sex is much better than run-on-the-dreadmill joggling. I need to find..um…*cough*…a personal trainer!

  9. Stef says:

    dolce…firstly…your brand spanking gazillion rands worth of shoes are shit…take them back and DEMAND a refund and don’t take no for an answer…usually the bigger tantrum you throw the quicker they will run for the till to get your money…and don’t buy there again…new running shoes are like slippers…they are perfect from the word go…i also suffered the same pains as you…but relax the new shoes takes about 2 weeks to make the pain disapear…just take it easy until the pain goes…i bought a new pair of adidas shoes, they cost me a whopping R926 but i love them so much it’s crazy…in my opinion these huge shops don’t know what they’re doing, the smaller boutique running shops are really top notch…cheerio!

  10. dolceii says:

    @ Steph > Ja. I’m thinking so too. THANKS! I’m off to have a frothy now. Bloody eejits.

  11. Mmm bugger. *Cackle* back at you.

  12. dolceii says:

    I deserve that.

    *snort*

  13. Why not try swimming?? No special gear needed and like sex, if you find the right venue, you needn’t wear anything at all.

    You could even integrated this with the sex and have sex in the pool.
    Creates a bit more resistance, therefore greater exercise benefit.

    Also, while exercising, no need to worry about getting all hot and sweaty, you’re in water so it’s a self cooling exercsie routine.

    If you’re desperate to buy shoes, buy some flipper!!

  14. dolceii says:

    Her name was flipper, flipper, faster than lightening.

    *shakes head*

    Right, now that we have the Ozzie TV show out of our head.

    Rev. You can’t swim just anywhere though. You can’t step out of your house and just swim. Well you could, but you’d look bloody stupid. I would, especially, since outside my door is a paved area. And not a magic one like in the Sprite ad.

    and I don’t think virgin laxitive would be delighted if I swam nude. Other gymers might. But not the staff so much.

  15. Martin says:

    I’d pay good money to see paved swimming.

    Seriously.

  16. dolceii says:

    How much we talking here Martin of the D2. Fabulous displays of sychronised paving swimming can be arranged at the right price!

  17. Maybe the 5m highboard dive into the paved area is not such a great idea.

    Maybe, just find someone who has a pool and swim there – failing that, this is Cape Town and spring is slowly setting in, so go to the beach.

    If want to do the nude thing, go to the beach either very early in the morning or late in the evening.

  18. dolceii says:

    Haha, the only people I know with pools have those silly little 1m2 jobbies, where a legth is reaching over to get your G&T.

    *sigh*

    And I like the ocean. I’m just not too fond of the johnnies.

  19. bluepete says:

    Liar – I have a massive one (pool that is) and you can;t have forgotten me already. Jeez, and you never even swam in there, unless I recall one memorable time when you wore that sexy black swimsuit. *sigh* why did we never repeat that? Anyway, I was going to tell you that i read that cheap running shoes offer as much support as expensive ones but that’s only on a treadmill. I still think you should brave the big cycling shorts and come mtn biking – but maybe you’re too chicken!

  20. crayola dude says:

    DON’T DO IT!!!! Go Vodacom biking instead.

  21. dolceii says:

    What’s Vodacom Biking?

  22. crayola dude says:

    I dunno, sort of like mtn biking, but with more meerkats? I think I was drunk at work that day… 😦

  23. dolceii says:

    Noooooooo. Say no to the meerkats, Crayola. Say NO!

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