A return to running. OUCH, etc. It’s only been six months or so since I last pounded the mean streets of CO7. All was going well back inNovember on a 10km effort, when… PING! Oh arse. That will be my bloody calf then.
I routinely have little calf strains whilst out running. This has been a constant over almost four decades of putting in the kms. You could plot a graph showing the upwards trajectory of how long it takes for me to recover.
It wasn’t unknown back in my 30’s for my calf to ping on a Sunday, and then I would be back playing 5-a-side at Brixton Rec on the Monday. Sadly those days are long gone.
Like a FOOL I substituted 5-a-side for pickleball this time. My Monday morning booking for a pickle session after the latest PING didn’t exactly go very well. I almost needed a stretcher to carry me out of the University Sports Hall. Oh woe is me, etc.
I was optimistic of a return to running over the Christmas period. There’s something quite special about putting in the strides over the festive period. But nope, this didn’t happen either. Just HEAL, you bastard.
I became restless over January. I wanted to do Run Every Day. I settled instead for Walk Every Day. But I couldn’t do it in moderation. I turned to power walking around Weird Wiv, clocking in around 5km each day.
I enjoyed being out and having a little more time to take in my surroundings. Podcast listening was a bonus. But still I didn’t feel as though the November injury had quite healed.
A visit to the Doc, and then a physio appointment followed. I was told to lay off the power walking, and take a further two months out. Oh dear. That’s not what I wanted to hear.
And so come Saturday morning, my eight week sabbatical had been served. I had a wanky pair of running socks to offer calf support, plus my new Lidl carbon magic trainers to road test. What could possibly go wrong?
Not a lot, actually. I was cautious. I took on a sensible 4.5km route, up to the top of the town and back, strictly no hills. I was a little sheepish at first, but soon found my stride. I clocked my pace on my Garmin. It was like I had never been away.
My ankle feels slightly sore, but not the calf. I suspect this is the cheapo cheapo Lidl trainer support, rather than my running technique. I’ve got an ice pack on my calf just for precautious. I’ve got plans for a Sunny Colch ten mile-er tomorrow morning.
Dick.