It’s been a long time coming, but yesterday I received the most accurate diagnosis of me ever.  And no, it wasn’t from a psychiatrist.  I’m almost 9 months out from ACL reconstruction surgery and though my leg is mostly fine, my running gait is so off that my uninjured side had started to hurt. So I headed to my local physical therapy running guru. After videotaping me running and watching me do, or mostly not do, simple jumping exercises, he told me, almost straight-faced, that I’m half-assed. I’ve never been so happy to hear it.  Finally, someone who understands me.  And he’s never even seen the inside of my house or brain. Pretty impressive diagnostic skills, that one.

So, I got no glutes, at least on one side. I’ve been so concerned with my weak and tight calf muscle and knee flexion and extension and getting back to running that I completely forgot about my ass. Too busy sitting on it most of the day, I guess.  That doesn’t do much for the fast twitch stuff.  White woman can’t jump.  How sad. No photos or video for this post. If only I could erase the memories of all those who were in line at the nearby Burger King drive-thru as I was put through my paces, so to speak. It wasn’t pretty, and that’s no whopper.

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