This past Sunday afternoon Chris decided to go for a run, while I decided to do some yoga (nowhere near fit enough to do both in one day…one must choose). We happened to forget that on Sundays the front door to our apartment building is locked, so we have to use a key to get in. Since Chris forgot his, he simply buzzed – no biggie. Thing is, our buzzer is très forte, and I was in Marichyasana C:
The end result was that I kinda jumped – a teensy little jump – and about 24 hours later I was virtually immobile. I’d thrown out my back, and it took the whole night and most of the following day to figure it out, but when it hit me, I knew what had happened. The pain was awful – from the bottom of my left thigh right up into my neck. Perhaps most annoyingly, I absolutely could not make it to my French class, which is, as I’ve mentioned previously, obligatoire. So I had to get a doctor’s note. But there was no point, really, in going to a doctor, because they would just refer me to an osteopath. So we skipped ahead and went straight there.