It looks like my 'off day' the other day was just that, an 'off day.' A mere, trivial, inconsequential little blip. From an off day to a day off, yesterday I was on leave from work, trying to use up my remaining annual leave before the end of the financial year.
I spent most of yesterday in the gym. This was the Esporta in Repton Park, or as I prefer to call it "the gym and health centre for people with more money than sense." I'm not a fan of gymnasia(?? Gymnasiums??) in general, probably due to my own little insecurities meaning that inevitably I'm going to be comparing myself unfavourably to other, fitter members of the gym, despite the fact that I think I am relatively fit and have a nice body as it currently is. I dislike this gym in particular because the membership fees are tantamount to extortion and can't fathom for the life of me why anybody would be willing to pay such silly money for a yearly membership. (Fortunately I had a free day pass so I took advantage of it and didn't have to pay a single penny.) Granted, it is a very nice looking gym, and the swimming pool is lovely. In fact, I think it is because of that lovely swimming pool that the prices are so steep. Perhaps there's nothing inherently wrong with the gym and I just have an irrational loathing of gyms.
Anyway, back on topic, aside from doing some bicep curls and shoulder presses, I ran on the treadmill for an hour, and although the silly treadmill only measured my distance in kilometres, I think that I must have run for about seven miles, give or take. Hopefully I am back on form. Despite the air conditioning in the room, I was completely drenched in my own sweat by the end of my little stint on the treadmill. Never, in all my months of running have I managed to sweat so profusely. You could have wrung entire buckets full of water out of my sweaty shirt and bottled the stuff up as L'eau de Martin. I am actually rather impressed that I ran on the treadmill for an hour since it is extraordinarily odd for me to be able to run on the same spot for such a long time. Normally I dislike treadmills because you are essentially running on the same spot for ages, and despite listening to music or looking at the TV screens in front of you, it is still a very boring activity, just running and not actually going anywhere. Maybe I misjudged the humble treadmill and perhaps I will use one more often in the future, instead of taking to the streets all the time.
I also did a short run this evening as part of my regular training (four miles). At the end of the run, I felt a dull pain in my right foot. Actually, it wasn't quite the foot. It wasn't the ankle either. It was somewhere in the lower leg, approaching the foot, but isn't the foot or the ankle. I'm not a specialist in podiatry so I have no idea what the problem is but it is giving me cause for concern and I do hope it heals up soon, preferably before this half-marathon on Sunday. To be frank, I'm quite surprised that it has taken me this long to injure myself again. I thought it would happen much sooner. I am crossing my fingers, toes, and any other body part that can reasonably be crossed, in the hope that everything will soon be all right. So for now, plenty of rest for this foot of mine.
I won't get all melodramatic about my foot ("Woe is me!" "Why do bad things always happen to me?" et cetera, et cetera) because, to put things in perspective, thousands of people have been killed in an earthquake and tsunami in Japan, so to complain about my foot with all this tragedy going on seems downright petulant and perverse at best.
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