I have knots in my back that come and go on a regular basis. On Tuesday's run I set out with a humdinger of a one in my left side. I couldn't take a deep breathe without feeling like someone was poking me in the back with a pokey thing. By the time I was done it had miraculously relocated itself to my right side. Same pain, same effect, but it had somehow managed to navigate across my spine like it was a French border. Today? Nothing. Back to normal.
Maybe it had something to do with the clam stink?
Since I knew Wednesday's run would be snowed out, I set out for a slightly longer run Tuesday. I did my usual loop around Cow Harbor, tacking on a couple of miles down to Crab Meadow Beach and back. I have a few pairs of running gloves that I keep in rotation, and when those are dirty, I have a light weight fleece pair I'll use as my emergency option. The last time I used these gloves was right after New Years. While certainly not their primary purpose in life, the left one had served me well protecting my hand as I shucked a few dozen clams. Shockingly, the 2.5 second rinse I gave it afterwards failed to rid it of all its new found clam goodness. I realized this as I was running and wiping my face with my gloved hand. Each pass by my nose resulted in an audible "ugh!" as I inhaled all its "dry aged" clam splendor. The sad thing is, it happened more than once. In fact, it happened half a dozen times before self-preservation kicked in and I switched to my right hand.
When I came home, I threw them into the wash. When they come out, I'm throwing them in again...
50 miles down, 450 to go...
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