March, Week 4: BST

[Sweder]

How ironic. After all the warnings from well-meaning RC colleagues and my blatant disregard for same, the day after setting a 2 minute PB for my local 5 mile hill-slog, my Marathon dreams may be up in smoke thanks to . . .

. . . badminton. A bit of light cross-training, 2 hours gentle tippy-tappy with a regular bunch of old duffers. A couple of light-weight games, then a men's four. A very competitive men's four. As the rallies gradually increased in tempo and commitment I started leaping about, dipping low to scoop up impossible returns, stretching wildly to reach dead-cert passing shots . . .

. . . and then it happened.
I'm actually too upset to talk about it, but suffcie to say it's bloody serious and I have no idea if I can recover this time. How would Birthday Boy Will put it? 'How pride doth come before a fall', I suspect. In light of the sombre news tonight from Rome, Zimbabwe and Newcastle there are more pressing issues for the World to worry about. To all you fine people out there looking forward to your impending Marathon - as Hill Street Blues used to have it - be careful out there.

Woe is me