10 days into the month already and there hasn't been a peep out of me. Phew. "How's your marathon training going Mary?" I hear you ask. I don't know what you're talking about. My name's Yak.
"Oh right 'Yak', how's it going anyway, you fantasist?"
Well it's going alright thanks. I had a nearly injury but I think I've got away with it. I got some new shoes - road shoes - and went out for a run in the sun. The thing is, when I got to Arthur's Seat, it was so nice I went off-road as well. All seemed fine at the time, but I was contouring round the side of the hill for a while which just felt a bit awkward in road shoes with stretchy uppers. They don't hold your feet at all.
It was a lovely day and even though I only had my little light cheap camera with me the light was good and I had to stop to take pictures of clouds in the airy sky.
The next day I noticed there was something a bit off with my left foot. It was sore at the side of and behind my little toe. After quite a lot of googling I thought it was pain where the peroneal tendon attaches to the fifth metatarsal. This is a tendon that runs down the outside of the lower leg and behind the ankle and I did something very nasty to mine in a climbing competition years ago. I was mostly okay running in a straight line, but any circling to the left so the outside of my foot came into play and it got sore. It was sore to the touch on the side as well, and I'd lost the balance on that foot too, which is a sign that your ankles are playing up apparently.
It wasn't all that bad anyway, so I iced it and went out on it again the next day.
These pictures of gulls are nothing to do with anything but the young gulls practise flying on the roof across the way. I like the way this gull's shadow is impersonating a swan.
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Work is when I rest my feet, or only use them minimally, so I was at work all day on Friday and hoped that would be enough to silence my wee crochety tendon.
On Saturday we were going to meet up with Nick. The forecast was not promising. I suggested a park run - because it seems like something to do with a bad weather day. Peter was not at all keen, but Nick was up for it.
Saturday dawned wet and cold as advertised. Nick came and picked us up in the car. I hadn't even made it to my 2nd coffee by the time it was time to leave and I was barely awake on the trip to Cramond. It was mighty hard to get out the car.
View from the car window.
My foot was a little bit grouchy, but again, okay as long as I ran in a straight line. Despite being quite near the start line I was badly boxed in at the start which wasn't a bad thing really but it meant I had to walk for several seconds before I could jog before I could run so I covered the mile in a not so zinging 8m29s. This took all the pressure off as nothing was now achievable so I ran briskly but with out any of the usual NDEs, which was really rather pleasant. Because I'd been so held back I was running past folk most of the way as well which certainly made a nice change and served them all right.
Peter ran okay considering, and Nick ran faster than he intended to but didn't spoil Peter's day by passing him, and I got my jollies beating an under 14 girl to the line. She was being "coached" by somebody over-zealous - I couldn't see them but I heard them - them insisting that she press on and her small querulous voice saying "I can't". I'm not a fan of that particular drama. There's no need to push the young ones like that people - not if you want them to be in the game long-term.
Anyway. I thought it was a personal worst but apparently I ran worse last Christmas.
We went for coffee and cake after that except Nick didn't have cake because of Boston. The bad weather and early start hadn't ruined my appetite and a piece of toffee cake flew down the hatch without touching the sides. I then ran sluggishly behind the boys I'm afraid. My foot was a bit sore and I was worried about it. It was too wet to get the camera out.
The next day was horrible and grey although not as wet. Peter and I went for an ill-tempered jog round Arthur's Seat kind of late in the day. My foot was sore and I was worried about it - in fact I had a feeling of near panic about it. Thinking about it I was realising that it was pretty much this time last year that I was really badly injured and instead of running a marathon what I had to do was cut the running right back and go out on the bike and try not to eat myself spherical. It's not easy. You have to cycle a fuck of a long way even to burn off a reasonable sized slice of toffee cake!!!
Not that it's all about cake...is it?
I had two full days of work after that anyhow, so I was hopeful that would give my foot further time to heal - and today I've been out on it for a 9 mile speed session and although I can feel there is something there, it is much, much better. I'm just going to have to be careful.
Fingers and toes crossed for my foot and for Nick's Boston on Monday!
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