After the de-cluttering and double vision debacle of yesterday, today once more dawned with what I like to describe as very Welsh weather. Now, if you are from Wales, please don't be offended by my terminology, I myself am Welsh, a native Welsh speaker and very proud of my heritage. But, let's face it, the weather leaves much to be desired. If it wasn't for the fact that I've had so many chest x-rays, I'd be sure I'd grown up with gills instead of lungs.
Today offered that sort of rain that appears to defy gravity and go upwards as well as downwards.
However, the ever-reliable Met Office promised me it would dry up between 12 and 3.They didn't let me down. As soon as the last (or what I hoped would be the last) raindrop succumbed to Newton's famous law and meandered its way to earth, I strapped my calf in its numerous layers of tubigrip, pulled on my trainers, donned a very lightweight (but in my recollection not very waterproof) rain jacket, put Laura in my pocket, got in my car and headed for the next village (it's flatter, and nobody knows me).
So, to the run. Well, as I've said before, it's more of a run/walk/wheeze affair. It went well. Seemed easier than last Thursday, although I still noticed the previously invisible inclines. Fortunately they happen in the first half of the run.
I had some pain in my shins, either side of the tibia, on both legs. They are still tender to touch (I know, don't touch them them!). I presume this is just muscle pain due to me reawakening them after many years of slumber.
I'm just hoping that the Met Office will be nice to me again and order a dry afternoon for Wednesday. I can't go before that, working 10 hour days healing the eating disordered of Gloucestershire. I'm just too exhausted to go out on those days.
Onward and upward