The path was very muddy and I was heading towards Tesco's, running in my clobber and pushing a supermarket trolley. I was passing people who looked on with amusement at this lycra clad lunatic and I was very aware that I shouldn't go too fast, because I didn't want to tire myself out having not run for four weeks. I felt GREAT though - really good. The air swished through my lungs and I felt on top of the world.....
.......then I turned over. A tickle akin to a bee stinging the back of my throat woke me up with a jolt. I started coughing (as I have been doing for a month now) and the reality of my dream run suddenly hit home - because it was JUST THAT. A bloody dream!
It's the closest I've come to a run lately and I still miss it terribly. I've even taken to looking on with envy at folk who run along the streets, decked out in brightly coloured clothing. Sorry to whinge, but I just felt the need to "vent".
That feels a whole lot better actually!
Can't wait to get back to where I once belonged, but in the meantime I'm on drugs. Proper drugs too. Like the ones doctors prescribe and also the ones you can buy at Boots. If they don't fix me - I dunno what to do!!
Happy running, you lucky *******s!! I'm coming after you just as soon as I can......