I slept wrong.
That's it. I slept wrong somehow. Nothing spectacular. No great story. I just woke up, and it hurt. My ride yesterday morning was an adventure to say the least, because I couldn't turn my head to the left.
Did I mention I needed to check for traffic to cross the road to turn left a few times? Go ahead, picture it... I swear the whole thing played out like a greek
So off to the chiropractor I go. Only, getting there was as much of an adventure as my ride was, because I couldn't look over my shoulder to check my blind spot. Which left me giggling for the whole drive, because I kept thinking of this commercial:
Anyone passing me must have thought I was crazy. So I get to the chiropractor's office. Now I just want to say that this guy's been great. He has walk in hours - which - if you're an athlete, you know that injuries really don't give you much of a warning. And they don't exactly give you the best timing either. This season alone, I've had: a sprained ankle ten days before a marathon, a bicycle wreck two weeks before a race resulting in a sprained shoulder and a bruised femur needing x-rays, and a pulled adductor that took three dang months to heal. He managed to put up with my diva behavior for all of the injuries, keeping me on my feet and my bike through all of them.
The adjustment itself isn't the huge sigh of relief most people think it's going to be. He adjusted me, and it went something like this: My. Neck. Freaking. Hurts. To. Turn. Left. And. Now. He's. Making. It. Go. Left. AFFHGIEHGIEH@!!!!!!!!!!!!
Fortunately I survived. A little more ability to turn my head than before, but not immediately all better. Which is why I'm on my heating pad today. I'm getting old.