A little bit Rusty

A strained muscle in the back of my left knee was upset prior to the State Street Mile.  The mile did nothing for my ego nor my temperamental knee.  Hence, I found myself seeking solace and miracles from running maestro, Rusty Snow.

Do not let the handsome, friendly smile and easy going mannerism fool you, magic seems to be married to pain.  I found myself blabbering about anything and everything and when that did not work, I moved into my Lamaze breathing.  Then I just stopped breathing altogether because that wasn’t helping either.

It has been ten years since my first and only sports therapy massage.  I remember why.  I ask Rusty if my knee might need another treatment and I am praying he says, “Nope, you’re all set for the next 90,000 miles.”

“Maybe one more,” that nice smile says, “just let me know.”

My limp back to my car assures me that I have gotten my money’s worth.  Tonight the leg is feeling sore, but soothed.  I guess Rust(y) is good for moving joints.

I would highly recommend to not just ice, but go Mr. Snow.

~ by drea on June 17, 2008.