This hasn't been the best summer of fitness for me. After moving to Virginia from Oregon in early July, I pretty much stopped exercising because it was so damn hot in my new locale. Only recently have I started jogging again, mostly in the early mornings when the weather is still decent. The spectre of Kilimanjaro is driving me to get in shape; if our trip to the Himalayas five years ago is any indication, the hike to the top of Kili is probably going to be one of the most challenging things we've ever done.
With all that in mind, I'm not too happy right now. Two days ago, while bending over to pick up my backpack, I felt a sudden stabbing pain in my lower left back and crashed to the floor. It took me several minutes to move out of a prone position and try to walk. (Mind you, I hadn't even touched the backpack yet, so you can't accuse me of improper lifting techniques.) What's worse, Mrs. Lt. Dan and I spent the rest of the weekend up in Washington, D.C., wandering around a conference and taking part in the anti-war march. All that additional movement exacerbated the problem, and today, I'm dyin' here.
I've had back problems for about 15 years now as a result of a minor car accident, so this isn't something I'm unaccustomed to. If things aren't any better after a week, then I'll start to wonder what I need to do. At this point, though, I'm shutting down the Kilimanjaro Fitness Program and hoping for the best.