I am bad
Jogblog says so.
I took my running kit in to work today not knowing if I’d be there all day or not in the same way I didn’t know if I’d be able to run even if I was. My plan was for a short run at lunchtime and a short run in the evening, reckoning my calf might just put up with a little use to get me over the 150 mile mark, if not quite up to the 5 a day average that I hadn’t even considered until Rachel mentioned it a little over a week ago.
The lunchtime run was out when I did indeed have to return home early. All I could do was head out at 6 ish and I put in a steady run to see how far I could go without risking damage. I managed 2.43 miles (oh my inner geek loves the Garmin pause marker) before stopping to massage the now solid calf muscle into a pain-free (well, not free exactly…more reduced but don’t tell JB) state healthy enough to hobble home.
Once there I looked at my total and decided that if it tightened more I wasn’t going to risk proper injury, so 150 miles would be out of the question. Then I hatched a plan.
I sat on the floor and stretched my magical bracelet over my foot and onto my calf. If it has whizzy ions and magic powers, maybe it’ll heal me. And maybe pigs will fly. But anything’s worth a try.
JB refused me access to hers to even the forces out and assault the other leg at the same time (she didn’t want me to wear it out), so I had to be content with one magical healing additive.
And I did need to put the recycling bin out.
So I ate, washed up and pondered a minute before saying to JB that I was “just putting the bottles out” (Lawrence Oates would have been so proud) which took around 9 minutes.
No, you’ve guessed it, the garden isn’t that big.
In my desperation to not a) kill myself but b) attain 150 silly little miles, I plodded a half mile out then the same back and here I am, calf if anything slightly looser than before, with just under 2 miles to run to make my target.
Or 7 to average 5 per day (if you read this, Rachel, please do 7 tomorrow and make the target even if you weren’t going to! You can tell me how good it feels on Saturday!).
Ah, well. In truth I’d rather not ruin myself. And my intention at the start of the month was 75 miles and keep my pace. Double the miles and lose a minute a mile?
Which is where I came in.