The Wheel of Crotch Misfortune

Right now, I should be running.

Instead, I’m being lazy (though productive, blog-wise), watching the Dodgers-Marlins game, and nursing the mysterious groin/crotch injury that’s worried me since Wednesday.

Three days ago, I ran for the first time in a week and a half. I’d taken a little rest, hoping a slight discomfort in the back of my knee would disappear with some time off. It reappeared toward the end of the short, 20-minute run. It’s nothing more than a slight annoyance — no big deal (knock on wood) — but another transient nuisance cropped up about 10-minutes in: a dull ache on the right side of my crotch.

I didn’t think anything of it; it wasn’t painful, and faded in and out for the rest of the run. The ache disappeared when I cooled down, and I forgot all about it. After showering at home, I dressed and starting walking to Las Barcas to get a veggie burrito. Suddenly, the crotch ache returned with a vengeance. Each movement of my right leg brought a sting of severe pain just below my waist, radiating toward my hip. I thought it would go away, and I joked to myself that I’d have to drive the two or three blocks to the restaurant when I walked past my car. However, after a few more steps, the pain was so bad I turned back and decided to drive.

Since then I’ve had no pain, but the area has remained sensitive. It doesn’t feel right. I initially thought I pulled my groin, having no prior experience or knowledge of what a pulled groin was or felt like. When I returned from stuffing myself at Las Barcas (sooooo gooooood) I researched my symptoms online. A pulled groin is a possibility, but the groin muscles — the adductors — run along the inside of the thigh, connecting the pelvis with the knee. The lingering ache I feel could be a number of things: a sports hernia, osteitis pubis, a hip-joint problem, or a pinched nerve.

It’s time to spin The Wheel of Crotch Misfortune to figure out just what the hell is wrong with me.

If you ever want to gross yourself out, Google whatever type of bodily injury or muscle you choose, then review the image results. You’ll be buffeted by nasty pre-operation and surgery pics. The results for “sports hernia” are no different, and I hope it’s not the cause of my crotch ache.

Though not as a nasty as a normal hernia — just the thought of it is fucking nasty — a sports hernia is just as uncomfortable to think about, especially since it also requires a little outpatient surgery to fully repair. (Want an explanation of both? Do your own research.) From what I can tell, a sports hernia is near impossible to diagnosis; though there are recognized symptoms, there are no foolproof, telltale signs identifying the injury, ruling out other possibilities. It was “discovered” in 1980, and is being diagnosed more and more among football, hockey, and soccer players, athletes who twist and make quick direction changes. They’re the ones most prone, so it doesn’t make sense why I, a long distance runner who makes very few turns, would get a sports hernia.

It’s not fair!

But all is fair in love, war, and sports injuries.

Oddly, I don’t have most of the “symptoms” of sports hernia. I don’t have trouble getting out of bed in the morning, my lower abdomen doesn’t hurt when I cough or sneeze, and I can walk without trouble. The Wheel of Crotch Misfortune keeps spinning.

Osteitis pubis is no better diagnosis. According to Wikipedia, it is “inflammation of the pubic symphysis, which is the joint at the front of the pelvis between the two ends of the pubic bone.” It can apparently “render sufferers incapable of sustained physical activity.” Wow. But I don’t have the telltale symptoms of “O.P.,” so The Wheel keeps spinning.

How about a hip-joint problem? Or a pinched nerve? I’ve had sciatica before, but those affects are felt in the calf, hamstring, and ass.

Can I buy a vowel?

Of course I’m going to the doctor. She will spin The Wheel for me, and when it stops turning it will hopefully land on the correct diagnosis.

Tonight I tried running, just to see if the problem would return. There was no pain, but it just didn’t feel right, so I stopped after a minute. Pathetic, eh? A minute. I used think I was a pussy for running less than an hour.

Every year I seem to have a minor injury that seriously disrupts my running. Non-runners may not understand, but not running is a difficult proposition. Running becomes a part of your personality and life; it becomes an addictive drug, a fix you need. When unattainable, the world is not the same. Our bodies are so intricate, so interwoven, that when one small part is disabled it affects all the others accordingly. Naturalistically, it’s reassuring, but athletically it’s annoying as hell.

The Wheel keeps on spinning.