The 10% Rule

When I acquired a husband, I acquired his treasure chest of charming, should-be-copyrighted turns of phrase. Some of them aren't fit for public consumption. But some of them are downright prophetic.

One of them is "The 10% Rule."

He throws it out whenever I am having trouble doing something simple or ordinary. Like when I'm struggling to get the cover back on the battery compartment of the TV remote. Or when I'm packing and repacking my computer bag, trying to get 10 pounds of crap in a five pound space. Or when I'm reading assembly instructions for installing software. You get the drift.

As little beads of sweat break out on my hairline, I hear, "The 10% Rule, Lisa."

The definition/tagline of The 10% Rule is as follows: "You must be 10% smarter than whatever you're playing with."

There's another 10% rule commanded by runners and trainers everywhere. I've heard it from my sports med doc and my running friends.

It goes like this: "When trying to add miles, only add 10% more per week."

I broke both of these 10% rules this past weekend. And I'm paying for it.

Not only did I 1) add nearly 20% more miles last Saturday, but then, like someone who apparently is smarter than the sports med doc who told me not to run at all, I pushed it a bit more and 2) walked for 3 miles the following day.

My bad knee is killing me. By the end of the workday, it's throbbing and I can't bend it properly to walk down the steps. I haven't been able to work out in three days. And it's not getting better, it's feeling worse.

Tonight I'm loading up on ibuprofen and icing it.

Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.