Race the Pain…..

It’s Friday and I’m p***ed off!

I should be on the motorway, cruising along to some old skool house music, tapping my hand on the steering wheel, boots thrown on the back seat, left leg curled under my right thigh, super chilled, big smile on my face.

Rucksack in the boot full of essentials: running shoes, shorts, vest top, tent, jetboil, jaffa cakes and my race number 582

Alas, no.

No Wales for me!

No hills for me!

No sheep for me!

No summit of Cadir Idris for me!

Gutted….no “RACE THE TRAIN” for me!

(shoot that bloke with the violin FFS!!)

MY LEFT FOOT…….or to be precise MY LEFT METATARSAL has been beaten up….my big toe attacked by a man with a leather clad sponge pad. OK so I was kicking him at the time, once or twice (Well actually 68 times in one minute).

Jun Fan endurance training Tuesday, run there, trained, run back no problem. Then it started to swell and yesterday evening could not even walk on it.  Snot good!

So do I hope it’s better tomorrow and travel to Wales….or is running 14 miles across the fells chasing a train with a damaged foot not the best thing for next weeks Scottish Mountain Challenge. Ruled by my head for once….I’m staying home L Prime myself up for smashing those Munro’s.

So what to do now…..maybe, just maybe I can ride a bike???.....to Wales or something……..