Injured
The last 5 days have been pretty damn shitty for me compared to my usually perfect life and I feel like a good moan.
Last weekend I had a cracking time in Carlisle whilst staying at a friends house, a cracking time that was added to further by Liverpool’s fantastic 2-0 victory over Man Utd. I was buzzing.
University work and worrying about my future in general has contributed to my mood sliding downhill since Monday. My mind has also been fucked around by snakes with tits this week, but I guess that is an obligatory part of life.
Then yesterday, 5 miles into a 10 mile run (nothing better than a good run when you are pissed off), I fell arse over tit down the canal after my ankle buckled over a loose stone.
Cuts, bruises, a sore arse and a severely sprained ankle was the result, and I had to to limp the remaining 5 miles home.
I’m doubly pissed off with this injury because I planned to run the Lancaster Half Marathon on Sunday 8th November, and I have been making great gains in training over the last few weeks. It would have been my first half marathon, and something I would have been proud to complete. Now all my hard work has gone out the window… I can’t walk and I’m on crutches.
Whoopdy do.
Still, I am an expert on crutches having broken the same ankle a few years ago, and I am going to Alton Towers tomorrow for the Halloween celebrations on those wonderful crutches, so hopefully I have reached the bottom of the trough.
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