My Shins are Revolting

Wait.

Let me rephrase that.

It sounds like I'm saying my shins are disgusting, and while they are not models of glamour or anything, they're not half-bad. In fact, my lower leg may be the one body part I most favor.

So let's put it this way. My shins are enacting mutiny.

They're all, what's up with all this running crap, D? This is kind of taking a toll on us. How about let's sit down and watch a movie instead?

And I'm all, but shins, this is good for you, trust me, you'd much rather be supporting a runner's body than a mid-thirties-working-mother-of-three-body-whose-metabolism-has-caught-up-with-her.

Whatevs, D, we just want to go back to an easier time when the most you would ask of us is to balance in a pair of heels at some work outing.

But shins, I've been running since last fall, I was training for a mini-marathon for pete's sake, and you never once acted up then. I had hip trouble and the occasional ankle pain, but I thought I could count on you guys to hold up. Why now?

Well, D, we kind of thought this was some kind of passing phase, like the time you took up knitting, or when you stopped drinking soda [snicker], but you just won't stop and quite frankly, we have had enough.

So yesterday, I went to a running store with a friend, where they did a gait analysis and got me a new pair of super-awesome Brooks running shoes. And another pair of Zensah compression sleeves so I can always be sure to have a pair handy.

I like the compression sleeves; I wore them on my 5K run this morning, and I do think it helped.

Here's the problem.

When I'm not wearing compression sleeves at any point within 12-15 hours after a run, my shins turn into whiny crybabies.

Listen D, we're pretty much the only part of your body that almost never gets to wear tight-fitting clothing, and since we don't think you're the kind of person that can pull off leggings, this is pretty much our only hope.

So, yes, I'm rocking the Zensahs under my casual-Friday jeans at work today.