The Money Hip

In my desperation for a quick recovery, I've asked everyone I can think of for advice and remedies. The results have lead to a bit of a dent in my most recent pay check. C'est la vie. (French just looks better in italics, don't you think?)

First, Facebook came through for me when I updated my status and asked if anyone knew good foods to eat for muscle repair. Most responses were jokes like, "beer" and "meth," but then two people told me about Arnica Cream/Gel (turns out professional athletes use it) and Arnica Montana c30 (which are tiny little pills that you let dissolve on your tongue three times a day--kinda fun and tasty). It's sold at health food stores, so I went to Henry's and found a $12.99 combo pack of Arnica gel and Montana c30 pills. I've got that going full force...when I'm not icing or heating, I'm gelling.


This is the arnica flower. Cute, but poisonous. Don't eat it.

I did some further internet research and found a place in Pacific Beach that received good reviews from local runners for their expertise and helpfulness when it comes to finding the perfect shoe for your body. It's called "Movin' Shoes." Despite the name, that for some reason bothers me, I decided to go and see what they had to say about my current shoe situation. I'm not very good at asking people in stores for help. I never have been. When I walk into a store I usually know what I'm there for and like to get in and get out without making eye contact with anyone. So, I wasn't really looking forward to going there knowing I'd have to talk to people.

When I walked in, I saw four men sitting in a circle talking in front of a wall of shoes. Three were older, 40ish, 50ish and 60ish, and one about twenty-something. No one else was in the store. When they saw me standing at the outer edge of the circle, they stop talking and look at me...I never know what to say first...do I explain my whole situation or just cut to the chase? I settled on,

"Do you all work here?"
"Yes," they said at the same time.

I don't remember what I said after that, but I definitely said "marathon" and "hip" and "shoes" which made them all jump up and start grabbing stuff (from the store, not me!). One guy studied my current running shoes as if they were some archaic treasure. Another guy told me to take off my Tom's and stand barefoot so he could assess my ankles. Another went to the back, brought out 3 pairs of shoes and said, "You look like an 11, right?" And the twenty-something guy asked if I like my Tom's (he was sort of a slacker...typical20yearold.)

Wow!
They were amazing.
And yes, I do wear a size 11. (They are also long and narrow like water skis... in case you were wondering.)

After about half an hour of jogging around the parking lot in different shoes, I walked out with a size 12, narrow, men's shoe!
Seriously? Size 12? Cooome oooon.*sigh*

But, I can already tell they fit a hundred times better than the shoes I have been wearing. And, that they're also a thousand times uglier than the shoes I've been wearing. It's sort of like the "equal and opposite reaction" theory. The uglier the shoe, the better it's made. The worse the food tastes, the healthier it is for you...the list goes on.

Turns out I'm a pronator...not sure what kind. (My ankles collapse in a little when I run, sooo... that kind of pronator.) Apparently, what I need in a shoe is cushion in the toes and support on the sides and heal. I've been wearing the Nike Zoom Vomero and they said it has great cushioning but zero support. My hip issue could be that my ankles aren't getting what they need. It makes sense.

I ended up with a different Nike shoe (the Span 6) and we'll see how it goes when I get back out on the road next week.

The third thing I am doing for my hip is electrocuting it!

I remembered today that, years ago, my husband invested in a Dual Channel Stimulator Kit for his own battle with tendinitis. Basically, I put two self-adhering neurostimulation electrodes on my hip and let 'er rip. Electrical pulses send (hopefully healing) shock waves deep into the muscle via a 9V battery.

I think I'm doing just about everything I can. I even bought a small canister of powdered Goji juice at Henry's because someone I know once told me it's practically a magic potion: cures everthing. (For $20 I guess it's worth a shot.)

Even though this forced rest is making me anxious, I feel good about taking action against it. My wallet, on the other hand, is rather unhappy. But I guess it, too, will recover soon enough.

Gotta keep on truckin'.