Someone used to say this. My mind always turned it around.
Anyway, one or two months of "good" (definition of "good" may vary from person to person) running do not make a runner. As usual, I am injured and not able to run the race that I wanted to run. So I am grumpy and miserable. I have Plantar Fascitis in one foot, which is unbelievably sore, and achilles tendonitis in the other, which is same old same old but a bugger to run on. And I decided I would do SMC at the weekend, which was probably silly. But the PF had only made itself known on Saturday and the run was on Sunday and silly me thought it would go away.....
Hmmmm.....
So, guess what? It didn't. And I have to walk to work - only 1.5km but still farking hard when your every step is painful and you are used to walking like someone on a mission. Now I am ambling with very little intent. AND I AM NOT FARKING HAPPY. Can I just re-iterate. Not. Farking. Happy. And then I have to walk home again. Again. Not happy.
Anyway, even a pump class is shite with PF. And I am betting so is a Spin class.
So, this weekend, no running, no walking, no dancing. No biking because the effing PF goes all the way up my effing leg. No hiking, no climbing up mountains and no abseiling down cliffs. Sitting on my arse drinking wine sounds like the only possible solution. Hello.
Anyway, one or two months of "good" (definition of "good" may vary from person to person) running do not make a runner. As usual, I am injured and not able to run the race that I wanted to run. So I am grumpy and miserable. I have Plantar Fascitis in one foot, which is unbelievably sore, and achilles tendonitis in the other, which is same old same old but a bugger to run on. And I decided I would do SMC at the weekend, which was probably silly. But the PF had only made itself known on Saturday and the run was on Sunday and silly me thought it would go away.....
Hmmmm.....
So, guess what? It didn't. And I have to walk to work - only 1.5km but still farking hard when your every step is painful and you are used to walking like someone on a mission. Now I am ambling with very little intent. AND I AM NOT FARKING HAPPY. Can I just re-iterate. Not. Farking. Happy. And then I have to walk home again. Again. Not happy.
Anyway, even a pump class is shite with PF. And I am betting so is a Spin class.
So, this weekend, no running, no walking, no dancing. No biking because the effing PF goes all the way up my effing leg. No hiking, no climbing up mountains and no abseiling down cliffs. Sitting on my arse drinking wine sounds like the only possible solution. Hello.
Aristotle: "One swallow does not a summer make, nor one fine day; similarly one day or brief time of happiness does not make a person entirely happy."
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