Day 5 and I didn't do much, but I did do something. I must be getting serious as I invested a whole 6 quid in a pair of jogging trousers, the sort that make me look like one one of my own clients, who has to be dressed by someone else, someone with absolutely no class. I'm not prepared to humiliate myself on a public highway, so it's difficult to fit any time in before it gets dark, and I really didn't want to do anything today, everything hurts, everything aches, I am weary to my very bones, deep into my pith.
I had taken my new joggers and the rest of my high tech equipment to work with the intention of running around a local beauty spot, but I couldn't be arsed with that and resolved to have a night off, by the time I got to Croesyceiliog though, I had changed my mind and decided that any effort, however minimal is better than none and can only help in the
It was beautiful, very close to dark, and a gentle fog had descended, the light was ethereal and I was serenaded by what seemed like a million birds. I managed about twenty minutes of wrunning up, down, across and around various rugby and football pitches. Hardly any walking, but plenty of rests, although not for long. I still had the old pains and the old discomforts, although there was no upchucking, but I also had three new experiences. My upper arms were killing me and I swear I wasn't wrunning on my hands, so what the hell is that all about?
Then there were my calves, both of which endured a deep, yet tolerable ache. What wasn't tolerable, and just about finished me off, was a deeply unpleasant, very sharp pain all the way down the side of my lower right leg. This pain would not be wrun off, in fact the more I tried the worse it got. Stop running, it ebbed away, start running, back it came, with a vengeance. I think my body might be trying to tell me that it is too old, too fat and too underused for this wrunning malarkey. Anyway, tomorrow I rest.
Deep Heat: does the pleasure balance out the pain? I can't make my mind up.