There’s a portrait of me in our attic. It’s in the middle of a monumental hissy fit, has destroyed everything within touching distance and is looking around for more stuff to throw.
I’m hoping it finds what it needs because I re-sprained my ankle on Saturday and will not be running Lakeland 100.
The last time I sprained my ankle was about fifteen months ago in the run up to Paris marathon and the Centurion grand slam. The physio was clear: it was a bad sprain and I risked serious damage if I ran on it. My coach was equally clear: running on a sprained ankle might well be doable, if pain allowed, but twist it again before it had healed and I’d regret it. I put my fingers over my ears, laced trainers over my ankle strapping and stuck to my plan. I wanted my grand slam and ligaments be damned.
This time the situation is different. With less than two weeks until Lakeland, no amount of denial is going to make my ankle race worthy and if I don’t stop the rot now, next time could be far worse. This time I’m going to follow the physio’s advice*. This time I’m going to address the underlying issue and commit to rehab exercises**. This time I’m going be sensible***.
Just so long as that portrait keeps screaming.
* One week at a time, bargaining all the way.
** Where have I heard that before?