After Sunday’s antics in Ashby, Monday’s walk is more of a hobble
than a walk and now somehow I seem to have pulled a muscle in my side as well.
On Wednesday I cycle to work, which was a bit painful and pushing
off from junctions was very difficult but I made it. I meet my ex-colleague in
the Brunswick for Lunch and a pint seems to dull the pain a touch.
Back working from home again on Thursday, L asks how the pain
is. He’s in his bed obviously and the other one is yawping in the garden.
I take the rash decision to push the pain envelope even
harder and go for a 10k run with sore knees, a sore side and also nipples still
sore from Sunday as I forgot to use glide at Ashby but otherwise the run was fine.
On Friday we have a big HR meeting at work to attempt to find
out why everyone is hating the takeover, so everyone is summoned in. It’s almost
like a school reunion, seeing people you haven’t seen for ages.
Saturday is the Lad’s last Parkrun, which we do at Wollaton.
It’s a sad occasion for us but probably not for everyone else who will now be
able to listen to the briefing rather than his barking.
On Sunday I run the Sheffield Half Marathon, which has always
been one of my favourite races with its no messing straight uphill first half
up Ringinglow and then the plummet back down to Sheffield in the second half. Well
it was my favourite before my knees went awol.
When I last ran Sheffield in 2018 my calf, which seized up during most races in those days, gave up the ghost in the warmup yet I still hobbled round in 1:55. Today it’s a 1:58.
(Sunday 27th March)