“Oh yeah, just there” said Sophie as she ran her hand
over the historical break in my little toe, while I explained the various injuries,
I have inflicted on my left foot over the last 10 years or so. My left foot will not be helping me to become
an artist; at least not so directly as it did for Christy Brown, (you never
know I may become dexterous enough to paint and draw with my feet after I
complete my BA in Fine Art, but I doubt it!) but the fact that I have not been able to
train since my ankle gave out on me whilst running a cross country race in
Chepstow at the beginning of the month, means that it’s not currently helping
to prepare me for my Coast2CoastSolo challenge either. Pesky left foot! “It’s all a bit crunchy down here too” she
observed as she expertly manipulated my ankle this way and that. “Yes, that
bunion on your big toe is throwing off your stride and stopping you from pushing
off correctly and that tendons rather long where you’ve rolled it a few times”. Harrumph…I’ve always felt rather aggrieved at
developing a bunion, I know they are hereditary but come on, I’m 6ft tall
it’s not like I misspent my teenage years in pointy stiletto heels exacerbating them, I wasted it in Doctor Martens and cowboy boots. Or rather I was often wasted in Dr Martens
and cowboy boots.
Anyway… I know it sounds odd to say that you almost look forward to visiting your Osteopath, but I do actually quite like a quick trip to Sophie down at The Medical. I mean, there’s something about chatting to someone who’s there to help keep your body in the race and understands your desire to push yourself as far as you can go, that keeps you motivated even when you’re injured. Sophie has manipulated my back and neck on numerous occasions. Definitely a useful person to know and she’s good giggle too. I still haven’t figured out how I tore my teres minor in isolation, (a rotator cuff muscle in your shoulder) which she was treating for me before Christmas. Does anyone else ever just wake up injured or is it just me? Honestly, the things I have done to myself in my sleep makes me think that simply going to bed and sleeping is more dangerous than any sport. I once woke up with such a bad neck and shoulder, I kid you not, I couldn’t walk properly due to the pain. I actually felt at one point that the pain was comparable with being in labour with N.o 1. Her nick name was “little shit” while I was in labour. Perhaps I should explore that in more detail with a therapist! No, I love her really, she was born with a full head of beautiful hair, that stopped the ventouse from sticking. That's why she didn't want to come out, she was doing her hair even then!
N.o 2, nick named “Tit leach two, (the return of the
sucky monster)” no prizes for guessing who the original “tit leech” was, had an
early introduction to mummy’s attempts at fitness. Now, I hate the gym, so much so that I have
only had a one membership and it lasted about two months when I first moved to
the West Country. To me exercise needs to
have an added bonus, like your getting from A to B somehow. I just don’t feel right getting all sweaty and
not really moving from the spot you’re in, there’s not enough distraction, it’s
a bit repetitive and quite frankly I can’t be arsed! Hence, I took on a personal trainer to come
to my house when N.o 2 was just 6 weeks old.
Now I was paying for a someone to train me, there was no way I was going
to spend half my allotted hour sitting down and settling or feeding a “Tit
Leech” so she was often latched on while I squatted up and down or used as a
weight like on a bench press. I couldn’t
have done that with N.o 1, bless her, she would have simple sprayed me in regurgitated
milk. We never did go back to the pub
where she vomited down the back of the radiator as 4 month old. Messy.
Poor kid. The couple in the corner nearly were crying with laughter! I still kissed her puked sodden face.
Teresa my PT helped train me for the Bristol to Bath
Marathon in 2015, the year I turned 40 and N.o 2 at just 14 months and just
stopped tit leeching. Teresa also
trained me for my first Ultra walk in 2017, 100k in two days along the Cotswold
Way. An event she also took part in with
another client. I was almost scuppered by
the sleep induced injury described above but since I had already dropped out of
the Edenborough marathon under Doctors’ orders due to a nasty bought of labyrinthitis, I wasn’t going to be stopped on my walk. We all made it round despite some
gruesome looking blisters, and touch of heat stroke! Teresa trained me for five years before she
moved away, in which time we also became friends.
I was supposed to be running the Two Tunnels
10k on Sunday and I was booked in for the Afan half marathon the week before. Both cancelled due to my pesky left foot. Sitting around has given me a bad back, I told you doing nothing is as bad as sport its self ! I’m really
fed up with my lack of physical effort in the last few weeks and I need a shove
up the proverbial. I did make it to my rowing class on Monday but that’s another blog entirely. Frankly I miss Teresa,
not just because of her PT skills but because of our motivational chats and general
gossip, which stops me dwelling on my minor injuries. I feel another trip to The Medical
coming on, although Sophie I’m skint, fancy a coffee and a chat instead?
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