Me and Renko

I received another bound printed volume of my past blogs for crimbo from Missus Mac (now known as nana mac). I think this is the 4th or 5th volume I have received as a present. One evening I re-read a couple of these at random. Compelling stuff, as you can imagine! As I read, however, I didn't fully realise how every other entry refers to some sort of injury or niggle and it dawned on me how over the years my body has begun to fail to recover and my running schedule has been dictated by my health.  Indeed, the karate has been sidelined for more than a year now as a result.

I have been suffering from a lateral ligament injury that seems to originate somewhere in my left hamstring. This developed after a misguided attempt to run 20 miles from the metro-centre to my house. It was a steady run, no speed involved, but the wheels came off at Stannington after 16 miles and I hobbled home. Just goes to show that you cant do more than 10 miles on just an empire biscuit and a coffee from Greggs.

At the weekend I attended the Birtley xc relays in the capacity of chief babysitter. There were two vets teams entered. I caught up with a few of the guys and after chatting I realised that they were all crocked in some fashion or out of sorts as a result of some ailment. The penny then fully dropped that as a over 50's runner, injury is routine. Its your training partner. Sits at the end of your bed as you slumber. Gazes at the photos in the frames on the bedside table in the dim light cast by a sleepy moon.

I watched the old boys run around and thought I could do just as well. However, 'probably not' on reflection. This is a long winded way of saying that I subsequently decided to start running through my ligament grumble rather than nursing it. I haven't been doing any distance, but have succeeded in keeping off some of the blubber and I have returned comfortably into the mid 7:30's/mile for short runs. This was confirmed a fortnight ago when me and nana mac found ourselves in Perth on a wet Saturday morning after a very enjoyable and boozy soiree at the Bothy the night before.
We trogged the mile from the hotel to North Inch Park in the rain. Eventually around 250 or so were marshalled to the start of the Weekly Park Run. I set off at a decent pace and was enjoying the cool ionised air, open vista and watching the squirrels shelter from the rain under the leafy sycamores. There were around 7 or 8 ahead. Halfway through I fancied passing the lad I was tracking when I felt the ligament grumble. I pulled up initially and thought about jacking, but elected to shorten my stride a little and hung on for 8th in 20:11. The squirrels clapped heartily.
So this week I have parked the bike up again and have broken out the trainers. I am master of the Voltarol rub-on cream, although I doubt its efficacy extends to more than a mental crutch. Any reasonable medical person would advise against strenuous exercise, but what do they know about the receptivity of a backward and petulant runner.  I took an easy 7 miler yesterday through the woods and will do something similar today.
One of me buddies joked I was now 4th fastest in the house. This is true, but happily I am vying for 3rd spot with chef Linds; but she's coming on a treat. The dark destroyer is at altitude in foreign climes mixing it with olympians and speedy joe has been having a run of exceptionally good results, most recently at Stirling and then last week in Kilmarnock.  Its a funny thing being inspired by your kids, but there we go, Unexpected and as good a therapeutic break as you're likely to get. 
The 2 cross country fixtures that were cancelled in November down this way have been re-scheduled so I might get a chance to get my new spikes dirty. I'll miss the Devils Burden Relays but might have a crack at the Scottish Masters XC. 
On the reading front, after reading the novella 'My name is Lucy Barton' which despite all the blurb I found unremarkable, I plugged my way through the competent but uninspiring offering from Ian McEwans 'Solar' (I know I'm being deliberately critical for effect here). My holiday read is Cruz Smiths 'Gorky Park' and I am making good progress through this russian thriller.  Its just gonna be me and Renko at the edge of the pool!