Throb, throb, throb.
It had to happen: the first obstacle of the campaign is here, if a bit earlier than hoped.
For about 12 years now I’ve had a gouty right toe. I can, and do, forget about it for 95% of the year, but every now and then it appears and waves a big red flag in my face. Ah yes, it’s you again.
I felt a twinge on Saturday after my canal run, but thought no more of it until the next day when I was flexing the top half of my feet on the leg press at the gym (excellent exercise for the calf muscles), and felt the familiar stab of pain in the big toe joint. I’ve never broken a toe, but I think it must feel like this, when you can’t bend it or put any weight on it. Even then, the pain drifted away pretty quickly, and I didn’t give it much attention. I did my intervals and cycled home without feeling anything more.
Yesterday, Monday, at lunchtime, it started the long drawn-out familiar ache. It came and went. Fortunately it was a rest day in any case. I was feeling so hopeful, or blasé, that last night, I even laid out my kit for an early morning round-the-block plod. But when I woke this morning, I knew this would be another rest day.
Today it’s been quite bad and right now, at 9pm on Tuesday evening, it’s possibly at its painful peak. It’s in the throbbing phase, where every pulse delivers a sharp jab to the joint. It’s like a rhythmical, gentle blow from a small hammer. The sort that you imagine geologist Nigel keeps in a concealed inner pocket, waiting to flourish at an unsuspecting rock. Sitting still, the pain is perfectly tolerable. It’s not something that can be wiped from my consciousness, but nothing like a bad toothache or food poisoning. Just a steady throb, throb, throb.
This is when working from home is a real boon. I remember once having this problem when in California on business. Nasty. I had to spend most of two days travelling: limping round airports and climbing in and out of taxis and wandering painfully around the streets, looking for eating places. What made it far worse was having to wear sensible business shoes.
Is there a positive spin on this? As long as it doesn’t go on too long, there could be. Until yesterday, I’d amassed 11 straight exercise days without a rest, and have had only 4 days off since the health drive began, more than a month ago. It will do me no harm at all to be forced to have two or three days of sloth. I don’t want more than that. Usually, these achey foot periods last anywhere from 2 to 7 days. At the moment I’m very hopeful that Crawley won’t be affected on Sunday. It wouldn’t normally last that long.
Tomorrow I won’t risk a run, but with luck I should be able to do some cycling, or at the very least, some indoor prancing.
Throb, throb, throb.
