March On, March On

[Sweder]

Time to bite the bullet and test the calf out on Lewesian streets.
My new runners have been shining like some luminous artifact from outer space; I need to get some miles on those puppies before the Journey to the End of the World.

A beautiful moonlit canopy over the old town tonight as I lumbered carefully down the steep hill from my house. Sure enough the calf was pretty sore, and I wondered if it would ever settle down. After a couple of gentle miles it did; the blood warmed the fibres, washing away the stiffness, allowing me to relax a little more. Somewhat less comforting was the constant stream of life-&-limb-threatening obstacles apparently hell-bent on my destruction. Darting cats, lurching buses, wobbling cyclists, half-cut drinkers weaving up the cobbled streets, dark, dangerous figures lurching out of hidden doorways, arms laden with take-away bags. I yearned for the safety, the sanctitiy, of my hills, but of course its all about road miles, and miles on the new boots, to boot.

I thought I'd covered five miles by the time I pulled into my driveway, steam billowing from my drenched FLM 2005 finishers shirt, but the kitchen clock suggested a different story; only 35 minutes had elapsed.

Whatever - distance tonight is irrelevant.
What is relevant is the initial lack of pain in my leg. The true test will come in the morning when any residual stiffness will no doubt announce itself. The early indications are Kader has worked his magic. This makes me feel a whole lot better about recommending his evil ways to a fellow RW forumite, Southdownsman. I stretched carefully, commited to preserving the post-pummeling looseness in my legs.

More rest now, then a gentle twelve mile loop around Old Snakey with the Cape Town Boys on Saturday morning, topped off with a pub breakfast overlooking our playground hills.