It was a taxing week, but I remained pretty chipper because I was still pleased about the marathon, the unexpected success of that off-setting some of my recent fails.
I was barely functioning on Monday, with aches and pains everywhere. Tuesday the cycle to work was okay but my ankle hurt. On Wednesday I managed an easy run, although my ankle was protesting and my shoulder hurt.
On Thursday I bit the bullet and put the car into the garage. It has had a mystery squeak which I have been ignoring for some time. But we're driving up to Orkney soon, and it would be good to see off any dramas, if that's possible.
On Friday I had to get up extra-early and pick up the car and pay the man before work. Apparently only a miracle had been holding up the front end of the car as the springs were gone on both sides. Some springs. Something to do with the suspension.
I don't like paying money but I was relieved they found something really concrete to work on.
That day was my final chance to record a session to pass the last part of my CBT course. Who knows if I'll pass, but the session went unexpectedly well. I also got an email about a possible new job from a doctor I used to work with. I don't know what will come of that, but it's nice to be thought of. I felt very pleased about all of it. I felt that perhaps everything would go well from now on.
For our Saturday recreation, Peter had been hearing that there would be unusually low tides on Saturday and Sunday morning - so the plan was to get up earlier than usual and get down the coast and down to the beach to witness and enjoy.
I was tired, but I was still in a good mood. We filled up on coffee, anticipating we would be too early for Falkos. (As it turned out, we weren't actually too early, but never mind.)
We headed east to Dirleton and down through the woods to the beach at Yellowcraigs.
Unfortunately, as we were approaching the beach at Yellowcraigs, I tripped over a concealed stumpy thing in the ground, and went down with a mighty crash, like a Californian Redwood.
I landed hard on the right hand side of my chest - not quite where I've cracked my ribs twice, but just round the corner. I sat up and thought about everything for a little while and hoped that the various aches in my body would settle. But it was sore when I breathed in. And it was sore when I breathed out.
A selfie, shortly before the fall.
It wasn't terrible, but it took the shine off the day. The tide was out, but the ripples on the sand were sore on my ankles. My shoulder was still sore and now my side ached. I was quite happy to finish up running and go home. I've just looked at the photos I took and they seem to reflect my mood. Isn't being in a brown study an old-fashioned phrase for being depressed? Oh yes, apparently it is.
Brown Study no.1
Brown Study no.2
A blurry hover-fly in a swampy grove.
By last night I was really sore and tired and pissed off. I didn't know if I'd be able to run at all today, and I was anticipating a night of not being able to sleep because my chest hurt. I got tucked into the paracetamols and ibuprofens and had a 10 hour sleep, which did me a power of good. In the morning I was not so sore at all.
We went a run round Arthur's Seat and celebrated the fact it was entirely free, as the Edinburgh Marathon Festival is on and people have been forking out handsome amounts for doing what we were doing. We actually found an unopened gel - so we were quids in by the end. Everything I have was still aching, so it was a lack-lustre run, but much happier. On the high road on the seat that overlooks the Pentlands I suggested to Buchanan that there would be no harm in having a seat in the sun on the warm black bench. We sat down and were surprised by a visitor!
This cheeky little robin came right over and was eyeing us up for quite some time. We could hardly believe our luck. I guess someone has been feeding him and I think he was a bit disappointed in us. We could have given him an SIS Go gel worth £2.00, but we didn't think he'd appreciate it.
He made my day. Then a little red moth came along and Peter chased after it while I continued to try to convince the wee robin to come and sit on my hand. He didn't, but he was so close.
I'm trying to think of a clever way to finish up this post but I can't think of anything. Better go because it's tea-time. :-)