Cue the Sunday morning following the wedding reception and I
am obliterated and ‘coming to’ in bed when I feel the most god-damn awful pain
from my foot. I also felt a god-dam awful pain in my head but didn’t have to do
a 30 minute WALK on my head to collect the car. Don’t panic...I was not going
to be driving it…that was the other half’s pleasure – but he was making me
share his pain by joining him on the walk to collect the car, plus we had the
kids swimming lesson to get to and I ‘had’ to be at that. I’m pretty sure he
could have gone to get the car and come back for me..but that’s another matter.
That rest of that Sunday had pretty much gone in a haze to
be honest. I did all my usual tricks to get over my hangover..huge Sunday lunch
at local pub, and some ‘hair of the dog’.
Thinking about this some more it occurred to me sitting there that large
Sunday lunches and drinking generally speaking was something I was going to
have to kick to the curb in light of ensuing Marathon training. This was a depressing thought. Anyone who
knows me knows I like food…I don’t just like it ..I LOVE it and I am always
planning my day around food. I always eat one meal whilst thinking about what
the next one will be and it’s fair to say that pretty much all of my disposable
income goes on eating out whenever I can.
Between my foot and my eating habits, I could see I was pretty much
screwed right now.
But was I? Thinking some more about it I realised that if the
Osteopath felt that my foot was not quite ready to embark on serious training
right now and that I should wait a while before starting my running plan….I
could still get in some serious eating and enjoy some more Cava in the interim.
A month’s respite maybe? Now my foot has been improving daily upto this point
of sitting in the waiting room and I am now walking normally and not crying out
in pain anymore – all good. Still, I decided for effect that I would put my
best ‘limp’ forward as I approached the treatment room.
‘Patricia Harding?’ – yep that’s me – that’s my cue. So I
upped and made my way through with slightly more hobble than necessary only to
be greeted with – “been on the piss again?”.
Damn the fact that the stupid Osteopath is in fact my
Nephew’s Dad and knows me only too well - I’m not going to able to get anything
past him. I can see I am going to have to take this all a little more seriously
hereon in.
Wish me luck!
Now....Tricia...I would not have found the bouncing off the toilet corridor walls like a pinball SO amusing had I known you had injured yourself like you did. You'd have smirked if you'd have seen it for yourself too - I'm sure. Glad you're on the mend though hun and SOOOO extremely proud of you for doing the marathon again. GO TRICIA!
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