Having arrived back sunkissed and relaxed (well, 'relaxed' is a relative term thanks to the Thomson check-in desks at Arrecife airport but let's not go there right now) I decided that the only thing to reasonably do was RUN! Ice Cream Sian and I arranged that I would show her the Tardis on Tuesday, so we were all set.
Then she texted to say that her Achilles was a lot worse, she'd taken advice, she'd made a physio appointment and, in the meantime, no running... So, it's raining, it's cold, I'm tired, I want to go home to bed... what do I do? Yep, I do the Tardis on my own...
I discover two things: (1) it's not nearly as much fun without Mark making rude comments and (2) if you have Lucozade Lite in your water bottle and it leaks you get sticky.
I don't know if it was the change in altitude (volcanos being at sea level and all that) but I really struggled... I was, however, hell-bent on beating the previous week's time, and managed it (just) by one minute. Well, 61 seconds if we're being picky. [Note: Yes, you're right, if it had been 59 seconds I would have called it 'one minute'. I am well aware of this].
Anyway (and this is entirely for the benefit of Fit Mark) - here's the proof. YAY!
The '6.53' relates to my time for the last kilometre. Yes, I was shifting. And, yes, I was very puffed.
By this time (Wednesday) I'm beginning to get a little worried about Mark... I've had no texts or emails from him since before I ran the volcano. He was sweet enough to read the blog about my plan to run it and send an email saying 'having read your blog somehow I doubt you'll do it'. See - insults across the Atlantic... Anyway, after doing it I sent him a triumphant 'Oh ye of little faith' email with the pic of me at the top... and nothing. No email, no text, no insult... And still no word, so I am now Officially Worried.
Sian is not running until she's seen the physio, although she does say that she's now exceptionally good at 'policeman exercises' where you go up and down on your heels to stretch your Achilles. She can even do this when serving ice-cream. Multi-tasking or what?
Today being Sunday, I decided to run anyway, despite the lack of team-mates. Guy and I were heading for the farmers' market in Cardiff, so I devised A Cunning Plan. On the way back he dropped me off the other side of Caerphilly Mountain from home, and I ran back.
See, this is happy cheerful me pointing at the way up:
Actually it looks like Slightly Concerned me looking at the way up...
I set off and follow a footpath at the bottom of the steep bit of the hill. This invitingly goes up through woodland and then, not so invitingly, heads back down in the direction of where I've just come. No thanks - if I go down, I'll have to go up again. I look at the hill, and look at the footpath. Enough looking - just run up the hill. So that's what I do... Just straight up a nice grassy field, across a post and rail fence at the top, across another field and then I'm on The Ridgeway - a path we've run before, although I'm a couple of miles further along it than last time... According to my clever watch, my total climb in the first kilometre is 147 metres. Yep, that's about what it felt like.
I jog along wondering why I'm going so slowly. I pass walkers, mountain bikers, and a very odd looking bloke with a long stringy pony tail who runs with his chin to the sky - looks uncomfortable. But he's going significantly quicker than me! Maybe I should try it...
Eventually I stop going 'uphill', go flattish for a bit, and then start downhill. And it's then that I realise I have a problem. Every time my left foot hits the ground my shin and my knee scream. And every time my right foot hits the ground my hip and my knee hurt. This is because I haven't been doing my knee exercises (what can I say - I forget!). So what to do? Carry on and risk injury? Wimp out and limp home? Or REALLY wimp out and call Guy for a lift?
Yep, I call Guy...
So, the team is currently: One who needs to do knee exercises, one who needs to get an Achilles sorted, and one who is worryingly absent...
As Ice Cream Sian says, all good chick lit needs a happy start, a crisis in the middle and then an 'it's all going to be fine' ending.
Let's hope for that then...
No comments:
Post a Comment