He's BACK!! (sorta, kinda)

Strictly following my physio's instructions, I walked 3k yesterday, and did it again tonight, this time jogging a few hundred metres at a time. No twinges. Not a sausage. None. Much relief. I'll do a gentle shortish jog tomorrow while TA is doing her 12k, and assuming that once again nothing happens, gradually build it up again.

Today's very early (5:30am) morning activities were fun. Given that I couldn't do the Striders' half and TA wasn't going to, we offered to be course marshalls. I ended up on the drink station at the top of the course. This went smoothly enough for most of the race but, given that it was a handicap, there was destined to be a very big block of runners arriving simultaneously at my table towards the race's end - and very thirsty runners at that! In the break prior to that I set out 50 cups (all the table would hold), and when they hit I was down to 3 before I could say "hang on, I'll fill some more". I yelled to TA for help (she was marshalling at the turn-around about 20m up the hill) and I filled while she handed out so we got through it, just. Still, while it was fun, I felt a few twinges of envy that I wasn't running... Ah well...

Apart from that, it's been a strange weekend. Footy season is over, but house fixing-up season hasn't started yet, so with the enforced lack of physical activity I've been at a pretty loose end. Mostly I've just sat and read - made a start on the big pile of reading matter that builds up through the year in preparation for the post Christmas lethargy - and watched most of the Bathurst races (after Church, which was after the half). Unfortunately, instead of feeling rested and relaxed, I just feel like I haven't achieved anything with my weekend. Maybe it takes more than a weekend to relax.

sfG