In my continuing quest to amass a full collection of obscure sports injuries, I am trying to self-diagnose the weirdest one yet.
My shins are numb.
Like, since Friday night. I had two really great weeks of working out, lots of days in a row, starting to feel fitter. I guess I tempted the workout gods again. Thursday night I ran a little preblizzard three mile nightrun. Friday I did a weights class since my husband was home in advance of Blizzardopalypse Nemo and I wasn’t going to let a chance to go to the gym go to waste. Saturday night I waded through the foot of snow in my dad’s driveway to use his treadmill. Three miles, felt great, no pain. On Sunday I did a great Spin class of one, just me, myself and trying to average over 200 watts on the bike. I did 216 for 45 minutes for a post-baby power PR. Felt fine. Lovely, even.
But in the middle of Friday night I woke to find my right shin was numb, like it had fallen asleep, from my ankle to my knee, in a sort of ellipse where I guess my anterior tibia muscle is? I didn’t think anything of it and even worked out the next two days (see: above). Sunday night my LEFT shin started in with the numbness. No pain, nothing, just a weird sensation of tingly pins and needles and numbness that won’t go away with anything, icing, massage, Ibuprofen, nada.
I posted this on Facebook (of course) and a doc friend said maybe I should go to the doctor ASAP so that set my hypochondria brain a-buzzin’ but then I called my trusty brother-in-law/emergency room doctor who said it was fine and I should only get worried if it lasted a month. So…I waited for it to go away but so far it hasn’t. Google believes it may be exertional compartment syndrome, but why the numbness hasn’t stopped with cessation of activity confuses me.
I ran, and biked, and lifted, and played for years injury-free before this recent pregnancy and I swear, my body is just falling apart right now. I’m going to pretend any and all injuries that happened/will happen since I got pregnant until a year postpartum are just freak things that will magically go away later. Like the tendinitis I had in my wrist after baby #1, and the plantar fasciitis I got this time around (seems to be gone already).
Because Chronic Exertional Compartment Syndrome (and the recommended surgery that goes along with it)?
Say it with me now: Ain’t nobody…
So here’s a confession: I am a bit of a hypochondriac. More specifically, the Google catastrophic-thinker variety. You’d think knowing that about yourself would be the first step to defeating it, right? But no.
Hello, I am a hypochondriac. I also wore Uggs with bike shorts, because, hello? It was a blizzard and I was going to bike. Indoors.
See, the hypochondriac’s dilemma is that sometimes you might actually have a malady that needs medical attention. But you’re scared everyone will think you’re, um, just being a hypochondriac.
So I don’t know what the hell to think. I’m going to a sports doc today and will report back later. I know you want to know what happens in the end, like those medical mystery case studies in the New York Times magazine.
Have I traveled to any exotic countries lately? Namibia perhaps? Any vacations in the Maldives?
No. I have, however, apparently been developing a major wicked big lower front of leg musculature, I guess from cycling and the way you drop your heels with heavier gear. I think the constant flexion and muscle growth was too much for my I guess size extra small fascia? Why does my damn leg fascia have to be extra small when the rest of me is now small creeping towards medium?