It’s Lunchtime but food can wait as into the work toilets I go to strip off out of my suit, shirt and tie. Mind out of the gutter now, the running gear goes on instead. Another Achilles rehab session about to get under way.
Headphones on, tunes lined up.
GPS refusing to kick in but can’t hang about as the people of the office are staring at me as if wearing shorts in East Kilbride is wrong. Having said that since the polar bears go about in duffle coats and scarves and Bear Grylls usually has to bring me lunch they may have a point.
First run with the ankle and Achilles support off and gingerly take those first few steps.
It feels ok.
GPS no use for now so just run up the hill by feel and it feels great. So nice to be out there. Avoid the car that doesn’t indicate but the driver waves after just missing me so that makes it all ok. Cross the big road as “The Rock” by Delakota comes on the headphones.
Couple of hundred yards through an Industrial estate then a sharp right onto the Langlands trail. Feeling fat but fine.
The Achilles is being kind.
GPS kicks in too and I swear the sun even starts shining. It’s sunny, but windy, and I’m flowing Peppa-Pig-like through the muddy puddles, saying hello to people while feeling that wind blowing through my luxurious (nasal) hair. Cross over to the real trail while avoiding frisky puppies. I have a dog, it’s all cool.
Feeling great, still no pain, slight discomfort and that’s it.
I could be anywhere in the world now as no vehicles, buildings, out on the trail in my happy place, zoned out from the world.
A couple with 2 dogs on leads ahead, and a big one not on the lead. They are taking up and blocking the whole path. “Excuse me please” I say as politely as a fat bald sweaty out of shape plodder can as I approach. Nothing, I try to go by on the right and the big dog growls and pounces at me, the owner moves across blocking me and I have to stop suddenly and feel my back jarring, almost falling down the slope into the river.
You couldn’t make it up.
Apologies from one of the owners while the other one sniggers. I swear as I run off as the fud annoyed me, and feel the sharp pain in my back as I go.
Achilles still fine.
More trails, a hand climb up the muddy bridge hill and through the swanky housing scheme where the posh people sneer at the sweaty outsider and then the run back round to the office. A car stops to let me cross. I wave and stride the last section back to the office. 6k complete and up to the work toilets to wash and change. I regret eating so much comfort food while injured, then wearing a baselayer, as it seems to take me about 10 minutes to peel it off and let the fat belly beast unleash its wrath. The noise of that unrolling belly beast is heard in the warehouse below, and possibly in the streets of Stockholm where children are advised to remain indoors.
The beast has to go.
All freshened up and back to the office, guzzle down the sugar free Irn Bru, delighted about how good the Achilles is feeling compared to how it was. Not there yet but a lot better. It’s all really positive but then go to rise out my seat and man, the pain in my back! Hoping it’s just stiff but the days ahead will tell. Like an episode of Mr. Bean, as you close one car door, one on the other side opens….