Well the six weeks was due to end on the 15th but I hit the tarmac on the 13th at 8ish in thr morning in Spain before the sun got too high. I took it steady, only 2.6miles in 30mins with a warm up/down included. I just couldn't wait any longer and needed the release the run could give me.
It felt so good to be out I could have cried with relief let alone for everything else that was happening.
My toe complained a tiny bit but not too much.
I did another 3 miles yesterday in 30mins with no complaints from the toe. I still have to watch uneven surfaces so will stick to pavements for now. I tried to outrun my demons at the end of yesterdays run...but looks like they stayed on my tail. I suspect my twisted face scared some of the locals as I ran like I wanted to pound the pavement to oblivion.
We come home tomorrow evening. I can't wait to get back to my life. Some semblance of normality.
Dealing with a death in a foreign country in a foreign language with foreign customs is incredibly stressful without even taking into account grieving or the loss.
I didn't get on with my mother well, she was a difficult woman to put it gently but I tried very hard to be her friend since my father died 4 years ago. So many things of my Dad's were still there. My brother and I have kept a holdall worth of things each to bring back to the UK and then for him to take back to Canada along with her ashes which will be interred next to my Dad.
Pretty sad when your life, or indeed 2 lives boils down to 2 small piles. 😕
I have a Spanish lawyer (hopefully trustworthy) who can do everything else so shouldn't have to come back now.
Just need to get home tomorrow and get on with my life and my running.