Since having been unable to complete my District FA Sunday Cup game on October 25 my mood has swung between despair and hope over the last week. I had to give up another Supply League line on Saturday but was asked to hang on as long as possible before giving back the forthcoming weekend's District FA Cup game, I decided it was time to give the ankle a try out.
The only problem was that last Tuesday I developed some horrible symptoms which resembled those publicised by Health Professionals as being linked to H1N1 - Swine Flu! I had aches and pains in all four limbs, in my back as well as a splitting head ache with flashes of light and pain in my vision - I thought I was on my way out at around 3:18 a.m. on Thursday morning.
Having struggled to work all week and faced with an all system failure on Friday, I took remedial action, shut down my department and headed home. It all sounds amazingly assertive but in truth I had consulted my doctor, discussed the situation with my Regional Manager and Divisional Director and agreed a recovery plan for today, so things were under control.
The doctor diagnosed me as having a nasty virus and an ulcer in my throat, at the place where my right tonsil has been situated until it was removed in 1969. With the two conditions combined my immune system felt overwhelmed and his treatment was simple ... rest, painkillers and plenty of fluids. I was only too happy to oblige and slept most of the time between 2 p.m. on Friday through until 7 a.m. on Saturday.
And so to this evening ... as I pulled on my extra pair of socks for support, tied up my trainers and shoved my arms into the sleeves of my waterproof jacket I was a little nervous to say the least. If this went well I had my first game in 4 weeks lined up for Saturday; if it went badly then I was looking at being out at least until Christmas when I had a self imposed 2 weekend break through plans to spend time with my family.
As I stepped out, the rain began to fall, the wind seemed to sharpen up and the temperature felt like it dropped a couple of degrees. It was all my imagination as it had been like that most of the day. I walked past my wife's car and set off at a slow jog. I immediately felt a sharp tearing pain inside my right knee. All the inactivity has obviously given a few old war wounds the chance to come back to the surface, so I just gritted my teeth and upped the pace as I turned the corner at the end of the road.
The footpath slopes away gradually then taking a sharp dip before levelling out and then upwards, turning into a 1:10 hill. The sharp pain in my knee was easing (would have been a lot less if I had taken my own advice earlier and had some painkillers before setting off!), my feet seemed to be picking themselves up/setting themselves down and everything was good with the world. As I hit the base of the steep hill, I found I was wheezing and the damp leaves under my feet were making me slip (my trainers were still coated with mud from yesterday's assessing of another promotion candidate).
I decided to stop and stretch out my legs and was surprised to find that I had no niggly pains or aches, in fact despite this being the first time I had run in 3 weeks, I felt ok ... except for the wheezing! After a couple of lung clearing coughs (suffering from virus after effects) I turned around and started the run back home. As the path flattened out I lifted the pace, expecting something to go ping but nothing happened except I got out of breath and decided to walk the last 75m home.
So a short run, probably equivalent to a lap around a field and a bit more (certainly a lot hillier) and then the same distance home was enough to prove to me that I could manage Saturday's game. As I sit here typing, I have decided that it will be support bandage and double strength pain killers for Saturday as well as some decongestant to keep my lungs clear ... but I can already smell the turf, hear the player shouts, feel the whistle at my lips ... football!
No comments:
Post a Comment