So today was my second visit to the physio. I went in having been icing, not stretching, and treating it to full rolls from heel to toe when walking, all as instructed. I’ve been over using it compared to instructions, having to walk the job a fair bit, but clearly it’s been good use since she was pleased with progress.
A session of ultrasound, then some electric stuff was passed through it via sticky pads (felt like worms and that under the skin, with added convulsions when I told her I couldn’t really feel it when I could, but wondered what it could really do…well, I was paying!) then a massage was carried out, all with the advice that it carrying on like this will get it better in time for London.
Which is nice. And on Saturday, I can start stretching and go for a light bike ride (around 30 minutes, nothing too hard), which means a visit to the parachute club to renew my membership, but not jump – i’m not about to risk further injury now. Not even on my birthday weekend.
I’m just hoping I can start running before my muscles completely disappear. But must be patient. A word I must remember over the next few weeks, I fear. Especially while running on the 26th. Correction…running slowly on the 26th.
Thank god for mince pies.