Summer Update

For all those worrying I might have been eaten by a Portuguese Man-of-War on my hols, worry not - I survived!

Sort of.

As my body is very Yorkshire, it decided that another overseas holiday a mere four years after the last one (which was 12 years after the one before) was a bit too much like something a southerner would do.

So it decided to punish me.

On the third morning, I woke up, went to make a cup of tea and reached for the milk from the fridge.

This was when my body decided to launch it's attack!

My back suddenly felt like it had had a seermingly hot scimitar jabbed into it.

I spasmed, the milk fell, and I collapsed into a heap onto the floor.

I'm not sure about you, but for me, going foetal in a puddle of milk in a Portuguese apartment isn't one of the highlights of my life.

Eventually, I clambered up (using the shelves of the still open fridge as a sort of ladder) and managed to get myself to the shower.

After cleaning up in possible the slowest time ever, and being unable to find a comfortable position to rest, I realised this was going to be another holiday highlight (up there with Samlonelle from Egypt four years before).

Several days, and the most uncomfortable flight of my life, later, I was home, in my own bed.

I've now got a lot more mobility (I think the recent rain helped me convince my body that I was back in Blighty) so am hoping to get out and running again soon.

My original plan to get going to a proper schedule after my hols has been scuppered, so the training currently consists of just cycling to and from work, and additional stretches to try sort out the back!

God, stretching is boring...

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