How is that even possible? A 3 mile run and I don’t get to the end! In 14 years of running my first ever DNF, I have many DNS before due to injury or to thinking an event was on a Sunday when it was on the Saturday, but never a DNF.
Storm Callum was cancelling parkruns all over the South west and I laid in bed waiting for confirmation that Killerton was going to go ahead. Once the thumbs up were given I was up out of bed, in my kit and out the door, but my stomach was churning and even warming up was tough. I talked tactics with a fellow club member, should we follow the 27 minute pacer and then blast it at the end, or hang on to the 25 minute pacer for as long as we could. I boldly announced the radical approach of running to how I felt, which to be fair was probably the 30+ minute pace, but least I would be guaranteed to enjoy it. It was definitely not going to be a PB morning and with the weather and ground conditions how they were that was probably for the best.
Slightly late after all the announcements, we were off. At about 3/4 a mile I was aware of a young boy running by me, not much older that 5 years, he was breathing heavy, clutching his chest and moaning. I asked if he was ok and if Mum or Dad were near by, he had obviously down the ‘stranger danger’ course or the ‘beware of the mad running lady in the woods‘ course and shot off like Usain Bolt to catch up with his responsible adult, I smiled to myself and cursed his turn of speed. Then disaster struck probably due to lack of concentration, I stepped on a rock that was covered with a damp leaf and went over on my ankle. Now this happens all the time when I am running off road and my go to fix is to run it off, but the instant this happened I knew there was no running this one off, there was a crunch oh and it hurt like @$%+! I stopped immediately and was checked on by runners around me, I assured them I was fine, biting my lip and waved them on. Then commenced the walk of shame heading back to the start passing all the runners, so many of them taking the time and breath to check on me. Considering I had run less than a mile it took flipping forever to get back to the start, but I was in time to see friends get to the end. By now I knew the ankle was swollen, I could feel the trainer and sock were getting tight, but I was too scared to look. The drive home was interesting.
I removed my trainer and was greeted my the sight of my ankle looking like it had been surgically enhanced with a tennis ball and it was all very stiff. Out the window went the food shopping trip, the pop to the bank and the baking session, instead I became very friendly with my ice pack and the couch and blasted through all the TV programmes I had on record oh and managed to finish a baby quilt so not all laziness.
I desperately wanted to be greeted with an ankle full of rainbow colours this morning, after all what is the point in spraining your ankle without being able to post colourful photos on social media? Sadly I have slight discolouration, quite a bit of swelling and a whole bunch of stiffness, but no purple-yet.
Last Friday I entered a run for next weekend- 16 miles on Exmoor, got to admit that is looking doubtful, but I have volunteered to help out at Killerton, in a way to thank everyone for being so nice to me.
Cross your fingers everyone that this heals up quickly.