Erika had gone. The past few nights I've had to share with Jupiter, a heavier sleeper, less restless with the occasional stir and rumble from her depths. It's not ideal, but another week in Iceland and this curious hotel they put me in, I can't help but lie there with the blind raised gazing out at my bed fellow. I was here two weeks ago. I'd planned to run on that visit, but this was after my stop in Copenhagen when I fell lame. This time, I didn't pack my shoes! Curiously though, I do have permission to run, but haven't.
All this travel is messing with my mind. Watching episodes of The Killing in the wrong order, occasionally coming across them on TV in Denmark, recognising places where I've been and generally getting real life confused with TV. The Killing is like that. Furious levels of concentration needed to absorb the subtitles as they flash by, bizarrely having to turn the volume up so you concentrate harder on the written words. It somehow penetrates deeper into your subconscious more than regular TV that gently wafts over you.
Under instruction, I have been resting my leg for almost 3 weeks now. In fact, I've been resting period! No exercise of any description. And little talk of running. A rare night out with James, Pete and Chris for a pseudo sophisticated Gentlemans evening sipping Champagne among those who could see us as the Charlatans we really are. Three of my best running mates and we never mentioned the R word once. Kind of liberating. But physio Wayne says I can run when I can hop pain free. Hop ye and hop ye good this day!
Thing is, I've not tried to hop yet. Too busy. Too busy chasing planes, making cupcakes with my niece, scraping ice off cars, trying to decipher the contents of my wallet and appease my boss. Too busy pacifying my colleagues, pleasing customers and growing the top line. Too busy trying to be here and also there. And it's all a massive fail. Failing to please anyone and letting my friends and family down. Perhaps it's normally like this, but running gives me a break, time to breathe. Though my body is rested, I am exhausted! Tomorrow it all stops. My last working day of 2012. Me time awaits. And my running shoes.
