So, as I mentioned yesterday, my left knee is what we in the United Kingdom commonly refer to as ‘gubbed’. It has been since Tuesday night. Alas, it’s nothing to do with getting fit, running, starting to work towards a half marathon in September, and so on. No, it’s simply that Tuesday night was freezing, and the streets were layered with ice. My foot went left while the rest of my leg quibbled the directional decision, choosing instead to jerk right. The resulting pain was utterly sickening, and I spent a couple of minutes bent over a low wall, holding myself up and stopping myself from actually being sick. I was a good half mile from home, and it was a long, painful hobble back. A horrible, random act of chance.
Nothing whatsoever to do with the bottle of champagne I had shared with my birthday lady in advance of the next day’s flight to Krakow, nor indeed the decision that a jaunty walk would be the very thing to clear my head. No sirree bob.
Anyway, at the moment I barely notice the damage most of the time, and normal walking barely causes a twinge. However, if I try to use the leg to stand, or put weight on it in any other direction than straight down, there’s a little screaming moment of white pain. The same applies when there’s any impact. Unfortunately, this so far seems to include running.
Which is what I really wanted to be doing this week, and the lack of which is making me somewhat glum. Yes, I know it’s my own fault. No, that doesn’t make feel any better about the whole thing.