I have just undertaken my first little plod around since the marathon last week.
On Monday and Tuesday, I couldn’t actually walk downstairs. The little shits got away with murder as we’ve got a three storey house. They played the game where they shouted me From one end of the house and then laughed when I arrived ten minutes later.
On Wednesday and under the supervision of a trained professional, I inserted a sterilised needle into two of my toes which has blisters under the nails.
The trained professional was my mum. She’s not a nurse or anything with a medical background but she made me sterilise the needle and then pissed herself laughing at my blundering.
Whilst sterilising the needle, I naturally burned my fingers as I hadn’t considered that the heat from the gas ring would conduct up the needle. Once was stupid, however I did it twice.
Having heard that the weather forecast is good for this week, I have undertaken the first pedicure of the season. This took me two hours of filing, cutting and pruning. I have painted my toenails on my size eight hooves a very garish red. I’ve worked on the principle that, if the nails are red, you are less likely to notice that two of my toes are purple and the nails are bruised. They were painted a very delicate translucent pearly hue before and they looked truly fucking minging.
I digress, which I am prone to do…
Back to the run.
We managed a paltry 7.5 miles. I was due out on Thursday morning but we decided at ten past five that it was raining. Rain wouldn’t normally stop a run but we concluded that we owed ourselves a break.
I’ve managed to put six fucking pounds on this week.
I have eaten and drunk like a very hungry piglet having a growth spurt. A piglet that thought they couldn’t put weight on as they were an athlete. I like the idea of an athletic piglet.
And no booze. Fucksake…
We are having a week off. I’m not sure what I’m to do with my hands though. Maybe that’s why people knit!