Against the flow

 

There are day when you think the universe if plotting against you and between Steve and I over the last twenty four hours or so we have had a little of that feeling of fate blocking your path.

At mile four of our ten milers yesterday we turned on to a footpath through a field, one of those that farmers hate that they have to out up with the fact that it is a right on way and that local people will continue to make at least a half hearted effort to keep open as it has been for centuries. Some farmers will plough right over the footpath in the field  every year in the hope of wearing jo public down but soon after the seed has been sown dog walkers, hikers, ramblers, runner and moutain  bikers will be treading it down again. It may be pretty rough going for a while but it soon becomes clear again. The one in question that I speak of here, always surprises us because the quality of the ground is so poor that it is a wonder that a crop grows there at all since it is a chalk and flint mix with little in the way of topsoil.

 

the way we run it is slightly down hill but not ata all steep. Since the crop was harvested we have been carefull to look where we are treading with all the loose rough stones on the surface. We were about two thirds of the way through when, what must have been a  piece stone thrown up by Stephen footfall hit a bulls eye of a target when it struck right on the bone in the inside of my ankle with an asthonshing crack. I didn't say anything at the time but carried on running my reasoning there was two fold.  The first point, was that Steve makes such a fuss if I am hurt that I almost cannot stand it; he is so worried about me hurting myself, he would have held an inquest into the damage and stortened our run. The second reason is that I am my own worst enemy. When the stone flew into my ankle bone a thought something a little stronger than ouch but made no sound. I told myself that I was going to have a bruise there, but it didn't feel as though there was a cut and there was no other sign of injury so a carried on running.

 

I can mention at this point that this is my way to adopt the 'take no notice and it will go away' rule. Some years ago I was in Perth in Western Australia for the ITU World Olympic Distance Triathlon Championships and had to walk the mile to the swim start from the transition bare foot because due to weight restrictions on the airline I did not have a pair of extra trainers or indeed anybody to hand them to at the start since I was there on my own. It was dark and I tripped up a curb and hurt a coupl of my smallest toes. Iknew it was not good but I did not even look at me feet until after the swim when I put my socks on before the bike section. But stil pretended not to see the damage. There is a photo somewhere of me running with my fingers looking completely rigid in some freaky kind of pain control yet stil smiling.

 

So anyway I did not look at my ankle until I got in the bath at home later where a bruise around the was coming out nicely. Once I had sat down for the evening for dinner and relaxation it did start to hurt at which point I slathered it with Movelat Gel relief. There is no restriction to movement and no related muscle tightness just a bit swollen and discoloured.

 

The bad day continued with Steve coffee machine diciding to stop working and then the handle of rear double glazed garden door from kitchen to garden snapped off. A locksmith came out very quickly after being called and repaired replced the whole lock systen of the door. I didn't ask how much it cost and don't want to know. I stayed up stairs and did some dressmaking, keeping  Birdy, the very naughty escape artist cat upstairs with me during the repair operation.

 

After a visit to the bathroom a few hours later I discovered an huge spider in the bath looking at be threateningly. At this point there was no chance of a fair trial for the critter, so I decided to flush it away but it was not easy and it kept on trying to climb up the sides to get away from the mad woman above. I gave it a vicious talking to explained that this was a day when I had had enough aggrevation and told it just to man up and face the plughole, I followed that with a thump or two (the housewife version of a good kickin', with the plastic jug that I rinse my hair with that rendered the brute at least unconscious if not dead. Job done.