Not much to report, futsal most Fridays and a couple of hearty hill-walks plus three half hour runs around the river in October. It’s a start.
The right knee is an ongoing concern, a slight discomfort more than an injury but much better than it was after 4 months rest.
What hurt most on those first tentative jogs were my ankles which reminded me of why I packed in the footie in the first place. But I can’t help myself. The futsal games are unbridled joy compared to the loneliness of the long distance runner.
Which brings me back to the reminiscing and the rummaging through all those old running diaries. The end product is the mother of all spreadsheets, painstakingly drawn up by hand with pencils, ruler and felt tipped pens. It covers from 1996 to 2017. Monthly totals, no gaps, 22000kms run. Of course, never having run with anything more complicated than a Casio digital watch the true figure could be anything between 20 and 25 thousand but hell, that’s a lot of running. Analysed in the cold light of day I should have been confined to a wheelchair long ago. Or an asylum. November beckons…
And in response to MLCM’s video, and never having been much of a fan of laughing Lennie, I send my retort to raise the spirits…