Life is cruel sometimes, isn’t it?
You try to do something good, achieve something a little bit different, and restore a bit of faith in your own ability, and it goes wrong.
You see, dear reader, a few months ago, I started running, just a little.
I was doing one of those programmes that build you up slowly and get you running or at least jogging a few times a week to keep your health and weight under control.
A woman I know had done it. She was about my age and similar in the fitness stakes, so I thought I’d give it a go.
Everything was going so well.
I was dedicating certain nights to getting out to run, and I was coming home suitably exhausted and feel quite proud of myself every time I managed to go a little further.
It was really nice, especially because no-one thought I would do it.
I didn’t tell many people, although I wish I hadn’t told my mother.
“What are you bothering with that for?” she’d say.
“I wouldn’t be bothered with that, Kate, it’s for the young ones.
“What if anyone actually sees you?”
No one did, I made sure of that.
I would go running in places no-one would see me, but I dreamed of the day when I actually became quite good and wouldn’t mind someone giving me a toot and a thumbs-up from their passing car.
But then, a week or so ago, I was forced to put on the brakes.
A shooting pain started in my heel and would spread into the arch of my foot.
The mornings were horrible. I swear when my foot hit the ground first thing, I almost dissolved into tears.
Anyway, I decided to get some help.
I know nothing about feet, and even less about running-related injuries, but a friend of a friend recommended a sports physio.
“He’s not bad looking actually, Kate,” she said with a smile, “and single, I believe.”
(I know I have mentioned this before, but honestly, sometimes it feels like everyone is trying to set me up with someone.)
So I decided to go and see him, and I won’t lie, I painted my toenails just incase.
He was very nice, if not matter of fact and to the point.
I won’t quote him verbatim, but let’s just say that he informed me the problem I had was common in “inexperienced and/or overweight runners”.
Embarrassed to the point that I can’t even recall what advice he gave me, I went home, and over a pizza, decided running wasn’t for me.