The Cowardly Lion

Two months since the last visit from my brother and once again he wanted to take on Parkrun, I said I was happy to go but not having run since his last visit and being quite afraid to try knowing how much it had hurt me then so I would be there in a supervisory capacity only, to hold water shout encouragement and lend him my Garmin.

We returned to his favoured course at Norman Park, Bromley Parkrun where he and his fiancé has set their previous PBs.

It was nice to see some familiar faces and lots of the Petts Wood Runners taking part but as ever I this was tinged with the disappointment of not being able to run… boo hiss to the woman who cannot drive! (except into me causing this daily frustration)

Too Much, Too Soon

This weekend my brother and his Fiancé were staying and as is now the norm when they visit we headed off on Saturday morning to Parkrun. We opted for a new location for them and decided to attend Greenwich – in Avery Hill Park. This park being where we used to go as youngsters when visiting our grandparents and where we used to fly kites. Good times and happy memories.

Vowing to take it easy we set off and my pace felt comfortable as I made my way around the 3 lap course. Into the third lap and I think I realised then I have pushed too hard, my back was in a significant amount of pain. I didn’t stop though, I walked for a while and completed the course.

The rest of that day I spent mostly resting with a hot water bottle pressed against my lower back and not surprisingly slept fairly badly.

Caution Slow Runner

After my super keen and clearly too ambitious run I opted for a short out and back close to home. Without incident (and I should hope so too) I ran out and back again at a very cautious pace to try to minimise impact on my back.

It is increasingly upsetting that I am unable to run like I used to.

False Optimism

Into the New Year and determined not to let the injury keep on holding me back, one year since it happened and it would seem that my back is still not in a happy place. I have had another meeting with the Doctor who has acknowledged my recovery will indeed take longer than 5 months, very insightful to suggest this at 12 months post event!

Feeling somewhat positive in my abilities (and perhaps deluded) I set off on an old favourite of a trail near my aunts house. An out and back route, fairly flat and all on a nicely cushioned peat path. I reached 5 miles comfortably at an acceptable pace, I saw many horses and families on bikes on this popular trail.

Although as I reached the halfway marker it did begin to rain… hmm no way to cut the run short and besides I have run in worse than some drizzle so I pushed on. I was feeling my pace started to dwindle a little towards the end and my back did not seem at its happiest.

On my return, I commenced stretching and a soak in the bath… all helped but as the day wore on my back was not feeling great. I may have gone too far.

The Tale of Jeremy Puddle Duck and Sh!t Stream Avenue

In his element!

I woke up to get ready for my morning run with Jerry, already from the sounds of the rain lashing against the window I knew this was going to to a cold, wet and muddy run. My advice last night had been 'wear black socks' which can only mean Jerry intends to drag me through mud.

I checked on facebook just to see if there was a message from Jerry to cancel, alas there was not so I got ready and with one more check just to be sure he was going to meet me in the downpour I left the house. It was raining but I was soon warm enough and resigned to the fact that although the weather was cack I was out and running, the first of the New Year and with my good running buddy so all was well with the world (if not a little soggy).

Pair of Puddle Ducks

I arrived a few minutes early and waited under a tree, except when I saw another runner and did a weird fake out run to the bus stop and back. Before Jerry pulled up and left out of his car ready for action and we headed straight into Scadbury with Jerry's opening gambit ringing in my ears, words that always strike fear into the hearts of those who know him "I have a new path to explore".

We followed a route that crossed with one we had previously run and that merged with a recent run of Jerry's that took us to the St Pauls Cray Meadows, a place I never knew existed but quite a find for a runner as plenty of good paths and opportunities for circuits to add on 'lollipops' to the route. We were soon off the meadow and heading down the ridgeway towards the 'new path'. Path indeed it was a path of sorts, currently disguising itself as a dirty old muddy stream, we galloped in at full pelt like two delighted puddle ducks, galloping and sploshing our way through. Comment was made on the odd colour, as we reached the end we understood why, there was a stables and outside a huge pile of straw, horse apples and silage. We declared this path to from then on be known as Sh!t Stream Avenue.

Thoroughly delighted with ourselves and the new path we were on the return route, I was beginning to struggle but I was dragged along to get the 8 miles I had been promised and before long we were back at the car. I was dropped home where Jerry was rewarded - after removing poopy socks and trainers - with my own special homemade Christmas cake and a coffee.