Whilst out on my LSR (no, not a Shamen record, Long Slow Run) yesterday, I had the misfortune of not spotting a raised paving stone. In true Jamie Vardy style, and contrary to popular belief, I somehow managed to stay on my feet. This was no Huddlestone.
*tumbleweed drifts across the page*
It matters greatly if I tumble, or fall. I’ll either bruise, sprain, or strain something. However, a fall runs the risk of subluxing, or even fully dislocating, my shoulder, and that would put me out for weeks. My glutes and right hamstring felt tight, but I thought I could run it off.
After three miles, I began to get a nasty pain in my dodgy knee. I was about 1 ½ miles from home, and 2 ½ miles from my planned target. I made the sensible decision to go home, and RICE my knee. My splits aren’t good. Despite the pain, it’s apparent I was keen to get back. Or maybe just angry. Thankfully, I don’t think that has made things worse.
It’s hard to stay positive. Life deals me lemons, and whilst I keep trying to add them to hot water and honey, there’s no respite. There are more cliches that I could add, but I’m not in the mood. It’s spring, the weather is improving, everyone I know is improving, and whilst I’m delighted for them, I’m feeling frustrated. I was hoping I’d be improving by now. My health, my fitness, and consequently, my running. Instead, I’m wondering if I’ll be fit enough to run tomorrow.
It clearly is too much to ask for a bit of good luck. It’s been six months, SIX MONTHS, of constant illness, and niggles. I must’ve run over a load of black cats, smashed countless mirrors, and not noticed those ladders I’ve walked under. It’s got to the stage where I feel like I’ve been cursed. For the record, if someone is sending me negative energy, remember you’ll get it back at some point, and it’ll be worse.
I am finding it hard to find any positives. I can feel that black dog closing in. I just need a break. Until then, here is my new best friend.