You know that catchy Chumbawamba chorus: 'I get knocked down, but I get up again, you're never gonna keep me down.' That keeps running through my head.
Things were going so well with the running and stress fracture rehabilitation. I'd slowly progressed from 60 minute treadmill runs to short outside runs. Then a long outside run. Then another one. Out by the seaside in the wild gales and winter rain grinning knowingly at other determined runners. Joy!
Then, trying to dodge a big puddle, my foot slipped off the curb at mile two. It seemed ok so I continued to clock up nearly 8.5 miles. And, being pleasantly surprised, all seemed ok afterwards too. So, a couple of days later I head to the gym for a mid-week short run on the treadmill and a spin class. Somehow something went wrong there in that inocuous little space of time because I woke up the next morning with a throbbing, stiff foot. That was yesterday. Today, it's still sore and going down stairs makes me wince. What the heck has gone wrong?
I understand that soft tissue around an old injury is susceptible to trauma, I just don't understand why it flaired up days later and after an easier, smoother run. Hopefully my trip to the physio later will help explain things. Of course what I'm really hoping is that he'll say is that it will all be better by tomorrow.
I'm trying to not think about the fact I probably won't be doing my long run this weekend and hitting 9.5 miles. Injuries are so frustrating! And while I realise there's plenty I can do to maintain fitness while not running, it's just not the same as being out there with all the other sea-sprayed, legging-clad souls loping along the beach.
So. 'I get knocked down, but I get up again, you're never gonna keep me – and my frozen bag of peas – down!'