Thanks to the above-and-beyond efforts of the darling allied health staff at my work, the recollection of which brings tears to my eyes, I have been given a chance of starting on Sunday. The physio said my ankle has a grade 1 strain (the most desirable sort I gather) and that we did exactly the right thing icing and strapping the expletive out of it straight after The Fall sorry I can't believe I wrote that - quick, blame the ibuprofen! I was given therapeutic ultrasound and some exceptionally elaborate strapping which I will need to consult a manual on advanced papier-mache to duplicate. I went for a short run/walk last night, as directed and despite being almost nauseous with anxiety, and there was only a little soreness and no swelling. I am told that these are good signs. I'm seeing the physio again today.
So The Plan Is This:
Act As If it's all going ahead. Have another short run this morning, as directed, and hydrate like a lunatic, especially considering the ibuprofen. Final decision on Saturday.
Most importantly, I need to prepare all my Important Race Crap (TM)
This of course includes gels ALL HAIL THE MIGHTY NUTRITION PLAN!, adorned with inspirational sayings. A girl's gotta eat, after all. And read.
hence, faithful readers, I am once again appealing for the pithy sayings and mottos that fire you up, cheer you up and make you believe that even if you don't actually believe you can complete whatever ludicrously task you are attempting, you might as well keep plugging away at it for the time being.
So far I have
One more step. One more km. One more marathon
It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog
and from the late Steve Jobs, Stay hungry. Stay foolish.
Share your wisdom with me, my friends! And fingers crossed, eh?
More anon, my treasures.
Friday, October 07, 2011