Today is clearly not my day

Today I've hit a hitch in my training.

And it's all been going so well. My weekend runs went like a dream, I ran fast, I ran long - I was in the zone. I was so in the zone on my long run at the weekend that I forgot where I was supposed to be running and ended up a couple of miles further away from home than I even intended.

But today, it's all gone a bit wrong. I headed off to a conference in Birmingham today, at the not-very-salubrious venue of the National Motorcycle Museum. Like all venues in the West Midlands, the venue was on a roundabout, on a roundabout, off a roundabout, on a roundabout and only accessible by car. I got a cab from the nearest station, cutting it fine for the start, hopped out of the cab, accelerated to make it into the revolving doorway without having to wait for the next revolve - and pop went my left calf.

I spent the rest of the day either limping up stairs carpeted with the most lurid print you could possibly imagine or sat on a luridly printed chair desperately trying to stretch out my calf without looking like a lunatic in a room full of civil servants (admittedly this is a big ask, lunatics don't usually stand out in a room full of civil servants. You'd probably have to wear a clown costume to raise so much as an eyebrow).

Once I got back home, I decided to take the calf out for a muscle-warming run. The first three quarters of a mile felt great, the calf seemed to be appreciating the exercise and I felt confident I could run it off. As I approached the mile mark, the calf started to twinge a bit. Then as I passed my first mile marker, the whole lower left leg just went. I felt like a racehorse with a broken leg - in fact, if I'd been on a racecourse they probably would have put screens round me and shot me on the spot, the limp and the pain was so pronounced. After walking for a bit, the leg let me start jogging home and I managed to make it back to the house intact ( I even managed to dodge the rottweiler that lunged for me about half a mile from home)

The calf is now on ice (writing this entry is giving me a craving for veal, for some reason) and I'm hoping that ice, rest, and a good night's sleep will do the trick. It doesn't feel too bad, so don't think it's too serious.
Here's hoping.

And I'll definitely let the revolving door go the next time.

LON