Let's Get Physical

You know you're singing that song now, huh? I loved that song when I was little. I love ONJ, she's so cute, with that short shaggy hair and that accent. Ahh, young Olivia Newton John. Now she's a cancer survivor and has endured the heartbreak of a lover lost at sea. Weird, no?

None of that has to do with this post.

Today I start Physical Therapy! Can I get a Woop Woop? No? Party poopers. I bet you're thinking I need PT because of my last marathon. You'd be wrong. As hard as it is to run a marathon over the course of one month, that is not the reason.

I dislocated a rib.

I know, right. I didn't even know that was thing. I still sort of have my doubts, except I've seen it on an X-Ray, and my awesome chiropractor says he can feel it pop in and out. And it's pretty painful. My doctor said he sees this a lot in elite athletes. Yeah, totally me. He also sees it in working moms with anxiety and depression and anger management issues. Nope, not me.

Since there's pretty much zero they can do about it, I decided that PT was my best, if not only, option. Actually, the chiropractic adjustments have helped, but still, when I run, it comes back, and it's hard to breathe, and when you're chubby and running, it's already hard to breathe, so there's a good chance my next run won't end well.

I've heard good things about PT. I know lots of people that have had good results from it. I also know lots of people that say they were on the verge of punching their therapist in the face because they hurt you so bad. That may have come from my grandma, she was awesome. And with my anger management issues, he better watch it.