i tried to stretch it out, trying various stances. the traditional splits, a deep lunge, a deep lunge with my left foot raised, a strange contortion involving a slanted lunge, twisted hip, and one arm up in the air. none of these seemed to quite get the spot.
i tried the stick. i threw my leg up on a stool and rolled it out. but i couldn't get high enough on the thigh. next i tried sitting on the ground and driving the handle into the spot. this seemed to help a bit but i still couldn't get deep enough. next i tried laying on my bed sideways, straddling the stick and using my body weight. this got me closer.
and then suddenly through all of these attempts, it came to me. i put one end of the stick on the piano bench and the other on the bed frame. i got on my side and laid down. i set my left thigh on the stick and rolled my body across it.
this was the pain i was looking for. the runner is so tuned into his body, he knows the difference between a good pain and a bad pain. there is a pain that brings healing in the hurt. it is deep, brings tears to the eyes, makes you all hot and sweaty, but in the end you know it is good. so you count to ten, as slow as you can muster and you push through it. like a track workout, like an ice bath, like passing on the homemade apple pie. you push because you know that this will bring you one step close to your goal.
so i lift up my ceramic mug half filled with lukewarm french press coffee that i made over two hours ago and have already microwaved once and toast to the good pain that brings me the confidence for tomorrow.
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