27 February 2011

Every day I write the book

At last, I have a copy of my book in my hands. Not that it matters that I have it: what matters is that other people have it ... At least I know it really exists.

06 February 2011

Nothing is easy

It all seemed to be going so well - but I started the year going too far, too fast, too soon. I should have listened to Nancy - a gentle 10K doesn't constitute a rest day. The result was a painful plantar fascia - the left one. A rest, a visit to Sharon for a massage, ice, stretching and even ibuprofen gel, and it felt OK enough to venture out to run back from the office on Friday.

I further handicapped myself by eating a large Indian lunch with a client in Brick Lane, washed down with a couple of bottles of Bangla beer - very nice, but not something to run on even allowing three hours for it to go down. Still, the run felt OK, and the foot didn't complain much. Not until next morning anyway.

I also got my bike out for the first time this year, blew the tyres up and rode it to the station. In Didcot a Waitrose delivery driver had cleverly parked his van opposite a parked car in a narrow road and left a gap too small to ride a bike through: I had a well-justified rant at him, which was like water off a duck's back - he'd saved himself a walk of about 2 yards with his antisocial parking - all he had to do was park on the other side of the road - and had his first words to me been an abject apology it would have been a different matter.

I had two locks secured to the bike racks at the station, but they'd been lying on the ground all winter and were seized solid. I broke one key and gave up on the other: it was big enough to squeeze it over the saddle and make the bike fairly safe that way. And I still caught the train.

On the way home, another technical problem: the rear light on the bike had no juice in the batteries, so I had to rely on another which I clipped to my backpack. The front light wasn't enough to show me the way, either. Preparation is everything ... a bit like the running, I suppose.