Gold dust moments; The Holy Grail?
I have my eyesight to watch light filter through leaves moving in a breeze, and my hearing that I hear that same foliage; a varying rush of sound as it’s tested against stalks.
A 737 high high above, a faint boomb at 37,000 ft leaving white trails across the blue.
Resting after a morning’s exertion. A ‘pretty muddy’ cancer research 5K run. Two days ago I decide to join my daughter (how hard can it be? I was running 2K quite happily without stopping this time last year 😀) and this is not a serious event for most. It is about getting round, walking if necessary, negotiating pink inflatable obstacles and being prepared to get caked in mud on the way round.
Didn’t want the two paramedics on their bikes to be bored, so I gave them something to discuss. Y’know, just to make sure they weren’t asleep on the job.
Twang. Definitely ‘felt’ it go. Right calf … 2K in. “ooooh, that’s not good.” I grimace, hobbling immediately.
As the minutes tick by, along with the majority of the cerise-clad ladies from our 10:30 start group, daughter sweetly walks alongside me.
“It’s ok. We can walk the rest!” She turns and notes my facial expressions with each step, “or we can finish now?”.
No bloody way.
I have known far too many cancer sufferers and even right now know three dealing with that shit. Cancer Research is doing wonders for them and our future, as the various strains of this disease are likely to touch someone we know in the future. Hell, it could even be me one day, so I am here to give my support – and support the volunteers who’ve given their day to throwing buckets of mud at us I shall.
I sat and massaged offending calf which basically said to me “WTF were you thinking? Didn’t you even consider a sensible stretching and warming up session before you started? You plank 🙄”
I missed out the cargo nets and watched daughter hurl herself over them, groups of women all shapes and sizes and ages running and walking past my seated position on the scorched grass of our county town’s showground.
I hobbled on to the 3K mark, by which time I won’t say it had eased. That would be lying. But I’d discovered a style of gait which caused me only mild discomfort as opposed to nausea-inducing movement.
I may have looked less like an athlete and more like a drunken Saturday night reveller mixed with Long John Silver.
But I got round!
Half hour frozen peas then half hour hot water bottle. Hot and cold – usually the best encouragement for blood flow to the damaged area.
I’ll give it a day or two then ask my Physio friend to come round with her ultra sound … I can’t be lame for too long, not when I work for myself! Man of the Woods has been luscious and brought me tea and crunchy toast with melting butter – my favourite snack.
(Hey – least it doesn’t stop me reading or writing! 👌🏼 I’ve even been doing some chapter planning but wanted to pause and share my day with you peeps) 🌸
Any suggestions from doctors or physios, shall be much appreciated!!