I was being so sensible. I was on for a medal in the “most sensible injured runner” category. I was going to be the poster child for injury rehab, a myth spoken of in awed whispers. I was going to prove that not all injured runners are impatient idiots who run on barely healed injuries and then seem surprised when those injuries recur.
I was. I’m not now.
Soul Cake Day Challenge (Thursday)
Parallel me: I shall go along, walk a single lap, collect my Terry Pratchett themed medal and goody bag and then return home to work through my physio exercises.
Real me: Gosh walking is dull and look at all that smoooooooth concrete. I shall run/walk the concrete section. Oooh, that wasn’t too bad. I’ll do another lap and run/walk some more.
Exeter Riverside parkrun (Saturday)
Parallel me: I shall go along, walk the parkrun and then chat to my friend over coffee.
Real me: My ankle hasn’t whinged too much about Thursday’s run/walk, I haven’t seen my friend for ages and she seems happy enough to pootle around, so I’ll run round with her and just try very hard not to go over on my ankle.
Regent’s Park 10k (Sunday)
Parallel me: I shall cycle there, cheer on my friends, join them for brunch and then cycle home.
Real me: Oooh! They do on the day entries and the course is 100% tarmac so it’s actually less risky than yesterday’s parkrun and that went okay.
Somewhere in a parallel universe is a very smug version of me with an ankle which is very grateful for her good sense. I will settle for having a soul which is very grateful for good luck and better company.