Jeremy was downing Neurofen as fast as I was snaffling my 'oh so yummy' so called energy bars on Sunday. Not really wanting to get into a discussion on injuries, I enquired about his pain killer of choice and we ended up discussing the merits of physiotherapy. Seems he must have a standing-order at Harris & Ross judging by what he told me of his recent back-catalogue of treatments. I think it's like this for most runners, but not something that is overly discussed.
Turns out he sees Tracey...and hence the topic of pain, and I mean real pain, not regular man pain, but Tracey 'this is going to hurt a bit' pain. Both of us failed to find words that describes the torture that she can inflict. And if her elbows don't find the spot, then the needles do! If you've been there, you'll know. Other physio's caress in comparison, but Tracey gets in there...big time. It's good, weirdly, hard to explain that, but the pain is somehow wholesome and relevant. And that's the thing with a good physio.
Like Wayne, they understand our need to carry on, rather than giving advice to stop or find a new hobby. And because of that, when you hobble to your appointment like the condemned man (or woman) you know this is going hurt, and if it didn't, it's probably not going to do any good. Closer to home, my ankle is feeling better, as long as I tape it. How does that work. A gentle four miler without tape and it feels like it's been attacked with a lump hammer. 16 miles of rough on Sunday taped, and not a twinge. Excellent.
