Walk of Shame

No, not THAT walk of shame! Thankfully those particular days are way behind me.. But I digress. Today was the last running class before our timed mile Friday, about which I'm having anxiety dreams where I'm running in the wrong direction, or I've forgotten something, or the coach is picking on me. Anyway. Everything was going fine, when all of a sudden my left quad muscle clenched like an angry fist. YEEEEOUCH!!! I tried to keep running, but that is not possible when it feels like someone has tomahawked a hatchet into your leg. I stretched it out, tried to jog a bit, then had to walk. And we were two miles out. I ended up walking all the way back with the slowest runner in our group. She talked NONSTOP, which wouldn't be so bad, as she's a very nice person, but she hadn't apparently mastered the Talk-AND-walk equation, because even with a damaged thigh, she had to jog to keep up with my walk. And I wasn't in a particularly chatty mood, considering the timed mile is Friday and I -literally - worked my butt off for the past eight weeks. I iced it when I got home, then took a hot shower. It only tweaks occasionally, after I've sat for awhile or I try to pick up my 24-pound toddler. So please send positive thoughts that this was just a random cramp, not a tear, and I'll be fine to fly around that lake Friday.