At last I am allowed to walk. Yes you heard me, although I wasn't quite sure I myself had heard the Doctor correctly. I'm now moving into the testing phase for my tibial stress fracture and have been instructed to go for three, yes just three, thirty minute walks in the first week. Being naturally active I'm sure I've been exceeding this quota on a daily basis, therefore I decided to move straight onto the next phase, adding in a little jog, and so far so good. I do feel that when heading out to do a jog/walk I should be carrying dumbbells in my hands, wearing a bumbag around my waist and sporting an eighties style headband - I've always been happy to go for a walk and love a decent run but somehow for me combining them together doesn't seem natural. I'm following the protocol as I'm desperate to recover from this injury, the frustrations now will hopefully be worth it in the long term.
I gather that summer was trying to hang on a little longer at home last weekend, I was lucky to have mine truly extended as I had a short trip to Cyprus. It was a last minute request to head out to the Mediterranean island for the Biathle World Championships, unsurprisingly not to compete. It was basically an invite to talk - so no hesitation in taking up that offer - actually the job description was to act as MC for the event. This was almost a near impossible challenge, just a few days prior I picked up the first cold I have had in about a year and disastrously my voice started to disappear. Much to the organisers horror I was pretty croaky when arriving the night before, thankfully it must have been the sunshine as I made it through two days of talking pretty much continuously.
