Those of you who have been reading this blog for a while will remember that last year I all but smashed my face open on the pavement:
Then, you’ll remember, I took the tops of both of my knees during the recent Royal Parks Ultra. Well, tonight I have done it again, and then some. My knee looks like it’s been hit with a baseball bat, and that it has a baseball inside it. I tripped over, you see, on my way to running club. Almost literally outside my house. I almost didn’t go, but I did. I jogged, lightly, down to the meeting point and then stood around for a few minutes. By the time we got going again my knee was painful. Like, very painful.
So what would a smart runner do? That’s right, the long course. 10km running on a dodgy knee. That’s smart runner thinking right there.
So, I have come home, gingerly peeled my blood-soaked tights off, iced my knee and now I am going to bed feeling sore and sorry for myself and hopefully I will wake up with a nice, normal looking knee, just minus a little bit of skin.
I’m really turning into an accident-prone runner. Really…