Conditions were perfect for grabbing a new parkrun PB today; overcast skies, clement temperatures, and little breeze. Sadly, I was not in perfect condition. I’d had an accident on my new road bike on Tuesday (I used a metal fence to stop it, instead of the brakes – I’m blaming The Bloke). I’m lucky to have bruised the bone, and not snapped my femur. I wish I didn’t keep having flashbacks, and the inevitable sickening feeling it induces. I think far too much than is actually good for me.
I also gave blood this week. It’s something I would like to do more often, but it has a negative impact on running, and the sessions tend to be too close to races for me to go along. I had received some bad news last weekend; a footy acquaintance had been involved in a very serious accident, and had undergone several hours of operations to try and save his leg, let alone his life. Whilst I had this opportunity to donate, I did so. It was too late for this chap, but it could help someone else. It also put my woes into perspective.
We arrived in time to warm up, and four days after the injury, I found a light jog painful. The pain seemed to shoot up and own the bone, making my knee and hip hurt. I was in two minds whether to run, but I hadn’t brought a jacket with me, and I was too cold to stand around. As most runners I know would do, I decided to give it a go; I could always pull out, if I had to. In the early stages, Ann, from the running club, said I was “brave” running. “Brave, or stupid,” I said, “I know where my money is.”
I ended up running with Vicky, who hasn’t been running for long, but has come on leaps and bounds in the last few weeks. I have no idea if she wanted the company, but I offered her the advice given to me by Gaz and Joe, when they paced me, things like where to push, where to relax, regardless. Seeing as we were going at the same pace, I thought it might help!
I found the run hard work. I hadn’t run since Tuesday. Whether it was the after effects of the blood donation, or the lack of training, I struggled to breathe, and felt lethargic. Vicky was looking strong, though. With about 400m to go, I urged her to push ahead. I had nothing left, but she went, and I was delighted to see she took a minute off her PB! Her hubby, and fellow chum Simon, also took a minute off his, and was the 7th finisher! His secret has to be Kendal Mint Cake. I love the stuff, I might have a go myself.
Personally, I was really disappointed with my own run. I’d psyched myself up, before my accident, to have a proper go at it. I had been coming into form, and with no races or long run planned, I had pencilled it in as a pre-holiday tester. There’s a 5k race in New York whilst we’re there next Wednesday, and I was confident of doing well. My confidence has been shattered. I don’t know how much running I’ll get in between now and then. I don’t know if the bruising will ease up enough for a good run. I will probably still run it, but my visions of glory have definitely disappeared. Sigh.