I was sitting at home with a morning coffee looking outside at a glum grey sky. I had that post-run glow about me, I'd stretched well, clean and now warm. Feeling a little perturbed, but also a tad smug, for half an hour before, the sun was out, barely up, but illuminating a brilliant blue sky and all kinds of vivid shades of green and bronze down in the woods by the Bollin. What a wonderful sight, and for once, it was all peace and quiet down there. I'd a 7.00am work meeting, so snuk this run in on the way home before breakfast. It was just a gentle 4 miles as tomorrow joy of all joys it's Match 3 of the XC League, this time in Wythenshawe Park and I wanted to leave a little in the tank.
Not even a hill in this one, so just 3 more dull tedious and very flat laps with the semi belief that this is good for me. It'll be fine, but I took it steady this morning, taking in the views and lapping up the colours. A stunningly beautiful morning, yet when I come home, breaking news is that apparently we're due a drought next year, this being the warmest Autumn on record or something. There's always a catch to something good, isn't there?! Good versus Evil.
Perhaps that's why I insist on making myself do this XC series....in the vain hope that something good will come of it. Ridiculous. But I did make time for a good stretch this morning. Not the usual half hearted effort that seems to combine a pathetic shoulder shrug and simultaneous yawn, followed by unsightly smacking of the lips that inevitably leads me to the fridge in search of food, but a good proper stretch routine that took some time with a fair degree of diligence and commitment. Yes.
A year since bilateral hernia repairs and a couple more from a lower back op, I need to stretch if only to remain where I am. Failure to stretch leaves me burdened with stiffness and discomfort. I do have a routine, but like all good plans rarely engage with it or do so very half heartedly. But this morning was one of those rare occasions where after I actually felt better and a good half inch taller. And 20 minutes late for a phone meeting! Ying and yang once again.
A friend spoke of a fall while out running in the week. My reaction was to laugh. In fact, I'm chuckling now. Seemingly, it wasn't funny (it is) and so I had cause to reflect on my own falls and falls I've witnessed. I know about falls in my work. Falling over is an issue. You my recall the last time you fell. I do...with absolute clarity. Despite seeing footballers and the like falling all the time, when it happens to you, it's a shock. A significant event. Bang...and you're down. 'Runner down'. There is the comedy slip from which you're perpetually trying to recover and delaying the inevitable, but then there's the root trip...an unforgiving, instantaneous arrest of forward progress of the legs, yet your body carries on, downwards, with no time to attempt a recovery.
And there you are...on the ground. The biggest injury is to your pride, your first instinct to bounce back up and carry on, only later discovering any real injuries as the adrenaline wears off to reveal the true pain. But it is because of this need to preserve our dignity, that when someone else looses it, it can in fact be funny and later we will all laugh. The clip below is a case in point. Only last week I was with para-athlete Rich Whitehead trying out some new prosthetics. You see him jog up the track (not great quality vid) and then...wipe out. For sure, there's the initial 'oooh', but after running to see him roll over with a big smile on his face, we all ended up laughing...because you have to agree, it is funny. Cheers Rich :-)
