Monday, January 26, 2015

It's out!

You may remember that I complained of toothache a few months ago, when I was tasked with surviving a Zombie Apocalypse. The culprit was one of my wisdom teeth, which was partially covered by my gum and therefore prone to infection. I was due to have the b*stard out after a course of antibiotics but then, of course, I felt fine so I wimped out of having it done. The dentist warned me that it would come back again in 3 month's time if it didn't get it seen to but, as I hadn't had any problems with it for years, I thought I would wait and see: in the worst case I'd have to endure a couple of days of toothache before having to pay another visit to the dentist.

Last Sunday, a little ahead of the dentist's prediction, it started to ache again so I made another appointment for Wednesday evening. It was probably a good thing that I was only expecting a checkup and a prescription for antibiotics because I didn't really have enough time to dread the operation: in my mind it was likely to happen the following week, to a completely different version of myself from the one sitting in the chair at that moment. But when the dentist cheerfully proposed to extract it there and then, I thought that it would be better to get it over and done with. It was quite a struggle but the only discomfort I felt - thanks to the local anesthetic - was from the muscles in my jaw resisting the downward pressure from whatever horrendous tool was being put to work. I left with my shirt completely soaked in sweat - which might have caused concern for those in the waiting room if I hadn't been the last patient of the day - clutching the huge piece of enamel to remind myself of the good deed done, while I waited for the pain to creep back over the anesthetic.

I've been on a mixture of light painkillers since then but I've managed to time it in such a way that it hasn't interfered too much with my training. But sleeping has been another matter, and I have tended to wake up in the night unable to sleep and have gone to the spare room to watch a film, read a book and play Candy Crush. It's not like the pain is so terrible, but the discomfort is enough to put me in a bad mood during the day or to make sleeping a distant prospect - rather like trying to sleep in a cramped airline seat. On a more positive note, I have made good use of the extra nocturnal hours and I have finally got to the end of Candy Crush (until they release more levels) by passing 26 levels over the weekend! Now I feel like I can finally relax and spend more time with my family...


I've gone back to doing my easy runs at 4:00 /min (15 kph) pace on the treadmill. We'll see if either the board of the treadmill breaks again, or if the nerves in my feet get inflamed again. I'm much more relaxed about the problems I was having with my feet. I read a post over on letsrun.com which reassured me to some extent. Some people had been running with Morton's Neuroma for decades without any further problems; others found that a wide toe-box or a small patch under the metatarsal heads did the trick; one poster even said that his doctor had said that "the pain wasn't hurting it, just you". I barely notice them these days - only if I step on a sharp stone in exactly the wrong place - so I suppose it's just a question of monitoring them.

On Sunday I went for a run around my neighbourhood for about 90 minutes at around 4:20 pace. It didn't feel great which I suppose is to be expected but it was a gorgeous day and it seemed a shame to run indoors. The problem with running outside is that you can't just press "stop" and instantly be back in your house, like you can if you are lucky enough to have a treadmill at home. With any luck, I'll be back to normal in the next few days.

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