August 2014: Turning Over A New Leaf

[Sweder]

The verdict is in. My unfeasibly wealthy consultant, an eminent man in the field of knees, resplendent in expensive shirt, sparkling cufflinks and smooth italian silk tie, has prodded, poked and pronounced.

I have David Beckham's legs.*

Right now I'm preparing for the onslaught once word gets out. I'm hunkered down in the swanky lobby of the Montefiore Hospital in Hove, waiting for the throng of Yummy Mummies to lay siege. It can only be a matter of time.

Meanwhile, my MRI is booked for Thursday lunchtime, the results of that expected next week. My relief is palpable. Most of the pain is coming from tightness caused by residual fluid loitering above the knee. My ACL is fine. I've lost 5 to 10% of muscle around the knee (based on how the other, unaffected Knobble sits). The problem, whatever it turns out to be, can be fixed by either a steroid injection or telescopic fiddling.

Now then, time to shape up. There's plenty of prep work to be done for an expected return to running, not least weight management. A return to prohibition (no bread, no beer, minimal spuds and pasta) coupled with daily fat-burning exercise. Last weekend's trip to the Dark Star brewery at Partridge Green, a triumph of ale indulgence and revelry amongst the Brighton Runneratti, turns out to have been a fond farewell to the amber nectar. Happy days. I shall reward myself for good behaviour with one weekly bottle of my new favourite beer, Hylder Blonde, a seasonal special from Dark Star. It is exceptional.

   

* literally not his legs. Mine are 'slightly bowed', but he used that name so I'm having that.