The green eyed running monster

Social media isn’t my friend at the minute. I cringe every time Saturday comes around these days. Why? Parkrun, that’s why. I love Parkrun, it’s amazing. I support it 100%. But right now, whilst injured, I can’t bear the thought of it. All those happy people running 5k and setting themselves up for a happy endorphin stamped weekend. I watch it through the screen of social media. Trapped behind the glass. All the updates about PBs and the great atmosphere. It’s turning me into the green eyed running monster.

It was a noise like a dying duck

Today I felt it intensely. After a broken nights sleep I was grumpy. The monster has really started to creep back in. The foot is taking too long. Stuck in a cycle of good days, when I can walk, and bad days, when my ankle burns and I can hardly weightbear. I am actually quiet close to going to demand the NHS put it in a cast for as long as it takes. This morning my tired, foggy, frustrated, endorphinless brain was ready to burst. To add to this the monkeys were peaking at their most annoying.

After attempting to copy a picture of Thor from his new magazine with limited success, Top threw an almighty strop and took his frustrations out on me. Middle, who was of a better temperament, was amusing himself by making an annoying noise. It sounded like a half dead duck being repeatedly stepped on. It’s last noisy breaths being pumped out in a loud rasping gasp. This went on for some time. He never tired of the joy of making that noise. Little Miss, void of dirty nappies for the whole of the previous day, was like a play doh poo machine. I could take it no longer.

As we drove home from an early trip out, the dead duck noise continuing, now irritating Top enough to make him scream, I watched the Sunday morning runners. The sun shining, swishing pony tails, long strides, trainers pounding pavement. I’m ashamed to say that I wanted to wind down my window and scream at them. I wouldn’t of course, but I seethed non the less.

I’m going out on the bike

The need to be out there, alone, working up a sweat creating all those happy hormones gave me the willpower to act. “I’m going out on the bike” I announced as soon as we pulled up outside the house. Mr LMR who was starting to lose sympathy for my grumpy disposition, didn’t argue.

Let’s get over the junk

I went in, changed, attempted to take the bike out of the back door of the garage, realised this was impossible and finally extracted it out over the junk at the front. I was off. It felt amazing. Then I realised my tyres were a bit flat, so I had to turn around and come back to pump up before setting off again.

In totally I probably only did about 3 miles. But do you know what? It did the trick. It was easier than I thought, the bike didn’t feel as old as it is, the foot didn’t bother me and the sun and breeze on my face as I sped down a couple of hills, blew off the cobwebs and filled my lungs with happiness. Being immediately confronted with another full nappy from Little Miss didn’t even phase me on my return.

Let the plan commence

The truth is, I haven’t been completely sold on the bike. It just felt less accessible to me. I love running because it is about just using my body. Cycling seemed to rely too much on equipment. My issues involving tyres and our over full garage testimony to this. Mr LMR didn’t even reassure me when I joked that the chain would probably fall off and I would be forced to walk home on the bad foot. Choosing just to laugh as I left the house for the second time.

I am also struggling with the extra level of preparation and planning. Knowing how far and how long it will all take. Remembering to check the tyres every time you go out. As a result I have resisted it. The thing is that I need it. I realise this now. The recovery is going to be slower than I hoped and running again is going to mean starting from scratch.

My running dreams are on hold for an undefined period of time. It really really sucks. However, in the spirit of running “For” the monkeys, I owe them the extra level of patience that exercise and a short ride of freedom will give me. So let the new plan commence, let’s hope the wheels don’t fall off just yet.