The wages of exuberance: shin splints.
I’m not actually willing to call them shin splints yet, however. Let’s just call them shin irritations.
I knew I was in trouble when I took the elevator to the second floor this morning and then couldn’t work up the energy to go try on boots at lunch.
BOOTS, people. Cute ones. On SALE.
Fine. I overdid it Wednesday morning, when I discovered mid-run that I could run farther than I could in previous sessions. So, like the Flock of Seagulls, I ran so far away, walked a little, then ran a little more. UPHILL.
I ran too far for my own good, apparently.
I’ve taken the elevator and a couple of anti-inflammatories. I’ll ice my lower legs tonight. I’ll pace myself at tomorrow morning’s boot camp.
The fact that I haven’t even considered skipping it means that one correct description for me is either resolute or hard-headed. Maybe both.
Entirely Adequate 
Obviously you have a considerable streak of masochism for even considering voluntary exposure to retail in December.
Cute boots trump retail crowding.
[…] ran in boot camp, and ran some more. I almost hurt myself — luckily, my shin splints turned out to be less splinty than some — but I discovered that, with the bouncing problem […]