Now that the sun is gracing us with its presence bright and early, I have gotten into the habit of 5:30am runs around my new neighbourhood of South East London where Nick and I bought our new home (more on that later).
On one particular morning last week, I had set off feeling goooood. One of those runs where you feel like you could run forever, light as a feather and fast as a whip. Much better than my-legs-are-lead-pipes days.
Anyways, about mid way through I started to feel a pain on my left ankle. It’s that pain when you misstep slightly and your right heel grazes your left ankle. Except this time it wasn’t just an uncomfortable bump- it bloody hurt. Hurt to the point of screaming out in pain (thank goodness it was 5:30am because people tend to frown on running and randomly screaming). I thought to myself “it feels like razor blades”. I’m a trooper and decided to keep calm and carry on.
But when I got home I looked down and saw my bloody ankle.
What the heck!?
And when I looked down at my right shoe, I saw THIS big ol’ nail poking out of it.
I must have stepped on it while I was cruising around the neighbourhood. What are the chances of that? I mean every now and then I’ve said I’d rather draw blood then embark on a 5:30am run of my hood, but I never meant literally. Although accidental, could you imagine someone doing that on purpose? Definitely the most sadistic run of my life.
And with that, I am back. Gym, blog and living life in full. Get ready and watch this space- but of course with a little less blood in the future.