Bless Me, Father...

 A bird and reeds

Well, its been around a month since my last update. I realise that you've been unable to restrain yourselves, checking every other day for some thin sliver of news, a driblet of reportage about the ongoing health issues of an ageing runner. 

The good news was that, by early July, my broken foot was mostly sorted and I started out on the bike, one day 18 miles, the second day 25, the third 30. Nice and flat and steeady away.

All was going well until a fortnight ago, when I decided to do 45 miles, but not on the flat. My chosen route was a pretty taxing hilly affair that took me to Rothbury, the Dunkeld of the Cheviots. 

I stopped halfway for a coffee and lemon drizzle and watched the cyclists who were riding the 'Cyclone', a Sportive that winds its way around the southern hills of Northumberland. It was a non-descript sort of day, weatherwise, and I began to make my way back catching 'puffing billys' up the hills. Clearly, my lumber regions hadn't had the memo and the bottom of my back began to tighten toward the end of the ride. Next morning I was a crippled mess. Steptoe with sciatica. 'Harold!'. When folk tell you they've got a bad back, it can be a 1 or a 9 on the pain scale. You listen and it doesnt mean much. Regrettably mine was a nine. I postponed my work related trip to the Hampshire, where, apparently, my services were in demand and I minced about in the most gingerly fashion, a doleful display of pain induced histrionics around the house for a week. Sleep was a struggle. 

The receipt of a back support belt, a simplified corset for thirty five notes, was an immediate hit and I wore it for the second week. Progress was made in Hampshire. 

Into week 3 of Backgate and things are on the up, but the pace of recovery has been glacial. On the positive side, its given my foot an extra fortnight of no stress and, as of today, I've knocked out a rather modest 6 miles since Monday.  

I haven't dared to weigh myself yet, and might wait till the weekend and put up a chart. I like a good chart. Gives me something to do, in a sad way.

Two runners flogging themselves up a welsh hill

I did manage to hike up Snowdon last weekend as the youngster was running for the third time and it was lovely to get back out and up a Mountain for the first time in nigh on 3 months. 

In the meantime, I bought a long lens for the camera to see if I could improve my sports photography. It was a cheap Chinese affair and using it manually will take some getting used to. However, it might offer the chance of providing a few options for some different snaps, rather than using the usual lense.