I came down to the Isle of Wight yesterday to visit my Dad, and was determined that I'd still get a run under my belt. Worried that the gremlins might follow me down the M3, I stopped off at Decathlon in Southampton while awaiting my ferry, and bought an extra ankle strap for my good foot and dome supportive running socks.
I was looking forward to a run in warmer climes, and set my alarm for the morning, expecting to awake to glorious sunshine (ha ha). The morning brought glorious...freezing fog...and subzero temperatures and I was tempted to stay in bed, but I reluctantly got out, got kitted up and got started. The first patch of ice was as I came down the slope of dad's front driveway and I was tempted to truth round and go back to bed.
But something in my head spurred me on and soon I was running along the cliff path to Shanklin. I couldn't actually see the sea, but it was nice to be so close. I then took a road down to the sea front and ran along the sea wall into Sandown taking a brief pit stop when I realised a gremlin had followed me, making my ankle support so tight it was cutting off the circulation to my toes. It had to come off. With the sound of the waves lapping the shore as an accompaniment to Sami I continued on my way, with the feeling gradually creeping back into my left foot. The hardest part of the run was coming up the steep slipway and steps to get me back up to the cliff path, and although I was attempting to keep running, my steps were so small and slow I'm surprised I was even moving at all.
Eventually I was back on the cliff path and headed for home, where a treat awaited me. My dad had got a breakfast of croissant and pastries warming for me.