...as Dickens wrote at the start of 'A Tale of Two Cities'. Now I'm no Dickens (unless this blog picks up big time and I land some major publishing deal) and my story is somewhat smaller in stature than the French Revolution, but the sentiment can still apply, right? Right?!
I think I did produce one of my best runs ever on Sunday - I covered 20km in about 2:15, which sets me on course for getting to (or beating) my target time for Silverstone of 2:25. With a combination of a flat route, warmer weather and an adrenaline rush to get me pumping, sub-2:20 might not be completely unreachable! I felt like I could go on further and I felt like I still had enough left in the tank, so here's hoping.
My brand new energy gel packs did help the last 3k though. I was really starting to wane, pulled out one of these energy packs and within a matter of seconds I was flying. In fact my final km was my fastest of the day - go figure!
On the down side, my ankle did start to hurt about 11k into my run. So I was 9k from home, early on a Sunday morning, in the middle of nowhere with no phone on me, with a hurting ankle. Unsurprisingly I didn't leave myself much of a choice and had to carry on until I was home.
Anyways after I got home, some handy self-diagnosis and I assumed I had a slightly sprained ankle, meaning lots of RICE (Rest, Ice, Compression, Elevation). It was at this point that fear really struck me - what if I just unleashed some long term injury causing some long term lay off causing long term depression from depriving me of my running????
See this is where that best of times/worst of times stuff pops in. Best run, worst possible position of not being able to run!
As it turns out I was being way melodramatic. I took 2 days of complete rest (which did in itself drive me a bit crazy because I get paranoid about getting into lazy habits) and my foot is 99% there. Taking tomorrow off as well so I should be ready and raring to go again on Thursday. Woohoo. Woohoo indeed.
The Neon Fish
8 years ago
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