Spare ribs

Dear Blog,

                 Firstly the good news. My other friend has returned to the land of the living. Resurrected.  So I am at last able to keep in touch without too much hassle!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

                 And now for the bad news …. the really bad news. Yesterday was pretty normal with a 70 minute trudge around and about. This morning, one of my daughters wanted to do a bit of barrier work for the steeple chase so I went down to the track at Warwick University with her mother to assist moving the heavy barriers. I am such a gentleman. I really am. To save on the £1:50 parking fee at the track car park, I parked about a mile away and used the jog to the track as part of my warm up. So that buffed you Mr Osibourne, didn’t it!!! Tax me if you can. The barriers were already set at female height so I didn’t have to go in search of the grounds man to go through the palaver of height alteration. Not that they ever mind; they are very helpful. So the barriers had just to be placed on the track. The first part of my help-task being complete, I started my session. A few strides and then to start the repetition 200s as I had planned. Off I shot on my first effort, not quite a Bolt of lightning; not quite. Steaming off the bend it happened …………HAPPENDED. I fell over. Over I fell. Blog, I kid you not. Down like a sack of spuds (possibly King Edwards). I don’t know how. I don ‘t know why. But CRASH with a helleva Crash. It is five months since my last fall and my right collarbone is just about back to normal. For the first time that I can remember, I fell on my left side, a subconscious reaction to protect my collarbone???? Who knows????? Another first. It was the first time I can remember falling on the track while training; in races, yes; in training no. So there I was, prone on the track. Where was the first aid??? Where was the air ambulance??? Where was my wife??? Hours later when I managed to get up, I knew I was sore. So sore. So very sore. On one occasion, when the kids were small and we were playing a little too boisterously, the young one fell on me from a great height damaging badly / cracking / breaking / fracturing a rib or two.  My ribs were so sore. So very sore. So it was ditto but without my daughter’s input!!! And my big toe was almost unwalkable on!!!!!  Suddenly the £1:50 saving didn’t seem so clever. It was beginning to look like a really bad investment. The second part of my help-task hit the dust at the same time that I hit the track. No way could I lift a barrier. Sorry daughter. Sorry wife. Get a grip girls! How to get back to the  car??? Slowly. Very slowly. VAERY VARY SLOWLY. I returned to where I had parked up via the Warwick University Business Park. A couple of rotund suits came out of one of the offices and waddled past me. Did they enquire if I was O.K.? Did they wonder why they were able to pass a superbly fit Olympian? Luckily I got back to the car while it was still light; did my wife offer to drive me home? NO, NO and Yes!! After lunch, it was painful to laugh / cough / sneeze / breathe. After dinner it was painful to laugh / cough / sneeze / breathe.

                              And so to bed.

                              Colin