Slow progress

This week has pretty much gone out the window.

Running-wise that is.

I have not yet been able to work out how to solidify time in such a way that it could be thrown out of anywhere, let alone a window, but rest assured, I'm working on it.

A tweaked calf (in my leg, I don't participate in bullying young bovines) meant that early in the week I didn't want to push myself and risk more damage. The latter part of the week has been taken up with trying to shake a cold.

I can't overemphasise how much that sucks.

Last week I actually started to feel like I was getting there, but then life comes along and bowls you a doosra and you're walking back to the pavillion wondering what the hell just happened.

Did you like that cricket metaphor? I've no idea where it came from, I was just typing and there it was. Usually when that happens I delete it, but I'm leaving this one.


So, need to focus on feeling well enough to run, then getting back into the groove.


I hope this blog doesn't just turn into an online record of failure followed by rugged determination, followed by further failure. That'd be far too cheesy for me - I'll leave that to an American.

Whilst it seems to be heading that way, I suppose acknowledging the problem is an essential part of dealing with it.

Much like recovering from alcoholism.

Not that I am, but there are definite signs that my obsession with actually running 26.2 miles is verging on addiction. I'm sure someone who knows more about psychology could offer an insight into what's going on, but I'm from Yorkshire so not really into that hippy nonsense.

I'm even ashamed to be on the Lemsip, but I have to acknowledge I've been down south a while now so aren't as hardy as I once was.

Hoping to get over it this weekend, so back to it soon.

Now, I'm off for a Lemsip.