I haven’t been for a run since late August. Despite my favourite exercise dichotomy of No pain, no gain and If it hurts, stop doing it, discomfort got to a point where I thought I’d better take a small break. A week’s self-prescribed rest, two trips to the specialist and four weeks prescribed rest later… and I’ve gained a notch on my belt. And I have another fortnight of rest before I can attempt light exercise.
Persistent readers know I’m not a big fan of running but I persist because 1). I like to fit my clothes, 2). I like to eat as much as I want, 3). it’s as easy as stepping out the door and just bloody doing it, and 4). it provides thirty to sixty minutes of concentrating solely on putting one foot in front of the other. I suppose I’ve been busy enough to not get too crotchety and/or fidgety.
But that notch on the belt. It’s a worry.