and in the department of things-that-are-shatteringly-trivial-by-c
Another bad climbing night yesterday. I managed two 5.7s I'd done before (One of them is overhung and I spend the whole damned time dogging on the rope, but I get there.), but my left big toe has been giving me trouble, and the damned thing started to hurt so badly after two routes that I bailed on the third one about ten feet up. Also, the left shoulder is not giving me the love, and my ankle is a little sore, I think from favoring the toe.
Blah. I really want to go for a run this morning, as it's still cool and pretty out there. But the smart thing is to stay home and give my foot and ankle a break. Blah!
I think I need to step up project less-of-me, because it would not hurt my joints to get an extra forty or sixty pounds off them before I expect them to manage this stuff I'm throwing at them. There's some sort of delicate balance between exercise, joint pain, serotonin reuptake, caloric intake, and how much owie I can reasonably expect my body to absorb with in the process of trying to keep it healthy that I need to strike here.
Hmm. I wonder how stupid it really would be, to go for a run. Screw it, we'll give it a try, and if it hurts too much, we'll stop.