I’d begun to imagine I was bullet proof. After months of feeling undercooked, my jogging last week was regular and improving. Sturdy legs were my undying allies. Or so I thought until I stopped halfway up a hill to walk-then-run-then-walk and noticed a quad muscle twinge and kept part running (I had a Big Year goal to upkeep!) and experienced the shock of gripping pain and kept part running (goal!) and limped the final hundred metres. That was four days ago and I suspect I’ll be grounded for a few more days.
Icing . . . stretching . . . using a roller . . . dreading the eventual reassessment of my Big Year possibilities . . . so it goes.