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I had an appointment with a physio therapist today. The main aim was for him to help me with a few new exercises for me to include in my growing work out schedule to principally prevent atrophy as a result of my mysterious drop foot. Or feet. The mystery being why it happened in the first place.
He couldn’t provide any reasons, obviously, but he was very helpful in terms of continued care and maintenance. He also suggested that there may be a link between the drop foot and gout though not a strong one. In particular though, he provided me with a method to avoid cramp during thigh extensions.
I was actually dreading going, mostly because he works out of a gym that is quite a long walk away from the house. The walk to the ICA was fine, but it was the extra 200 kilometres beyond that that wasn’t appealing. Still, given I gave myself a lot of leeway, I arrived early enough to have a sit down in some shade to recover before my appointed time.
And, to be honest, the walk there wasn’t that bad. No, it was totally the walk back during which I really suffered. In order to alleviate the heat and distance, I walked straight through the woods rather than the slightly longer route around the woodland track. Even so, I returned home a helpless, soaking mass of sweat and pain.
It took a while for me to recover. Consequently, the rest of my day was pretty sedentary.
In the meanwhilst, Mirinda is still feeling the effects of my cold germs and Freya remains mostly asleep, and I realised today that we missed her birthday last Friday. She was 11.
