Friday was great, really great. A hot day in work got followed up by a very hard hour in training, as one of our fold who left to join the forces came back for the weekend, so he was given a good one to remind just how hard we like to work. My legs were in agony after the running the night before, and then that workout, so I was looking forward to cutting loose a little in Plymouth.
The club was pretty busy by about midnight, and everyone had a great time. 2am rolled around and I was starting to feel the need for bed, all that dancing on top of the hard training had finally caught up with me. We got some food then started heading back. After about 20 miles I noticed we had been followed by a Police Land Rover for about 5 miles, and then they decided to pull me over…. Apparently I was swerving(!), when in fact if anything I was just trying to see, as their stupidly big car was blinding me in all mirrors as they were driving right up my backside! He asked me if I’d been drinking (not a drop), and just couldn’t seem to grasp the fact that we’d travelled up for a night out, asking me why my car was registered in Cornwall if I live in Plymouth…. Anyway, we rolled back into Cornwall and I got back at about 3.45am, but as I got out of the car I was in for a bit of a surprise. Somehow, in the last 60 miles of driving, my knee had decided that it wasn’t fine, and that I wasn’t going to be allowed to walk properly. I got out of the car and nearly fell over, and walking down my (steep) lane took ages and was so painful it brought tears to my eyes. I put it down to tiredness until the next morning when I got up and found I still couldn’t walk properly. Not exactly the best start to my nice relaxing Saturday.
As the weekend’s gone on, it’s gotten no better at all. The pain is on the outside of my left knee, and it really hurts if I’m doing anything other than walking on the flat. Stairs and hills are my worst enemy right now. It means I’ve missed the seminar we had booked for today, and that I’m going to miss training tonight too. I’m still going to go along, maybe I can hold some pads or something useful. I’m pretty worried about it though, it doesn’t feel like a simple muscle pull, and I really doubt right now that I’ll be training again this coming week. It’s one of those few things which is actually going to stop me, the idea of twisting into a good side kick and permanently mangling my leg is one I’m not really going to entertain. If it’s no better by midweek I’ll be popping up the road to the hospital where the self-referall physio is. I’m feeling quite miserable now.
So all in all, excluding the first two hours, this weekend has been pretty terrible. I’ve spent the afternoon on the sofa with a bag of frozen cauliflower tied to my leg, and before I know it it’s back to work again. Surely next week can get better, please? I don’t know whether to feel sad or really f’ing angry, I’m starting to lean towards the latter.
Here’s a song which caused me to put my drink down, halt all conversation and leap to the dancefloor on Friday night.
Static-X – Push It.