Today I went for a jog…and it was hard. I’m not a natural when it comes to exercise at any rate – it’s just never come easy to me – but today kicked my arse. I was thirsty, I felt like my breakfast was still digesting, I was out of breath too soon and my legs felt like bricks. It reminded me a lot of when I first started. But I’ll start this post a little further back than that.
After I broke my leg, the doctors said I wouldn’t need any physio because the breaks were in the tibia and fibula, not the joints. So although they had operated on me three times to insert, re-set (because my foot was pointing in the wrong direction the first time), and finally remove the nail that extended from my ankle (joint) to my knee (joint), and although a good part of the trauma my leg went through was at these joints (owing to the two screws at either end to hold the nail in place), no follow-up therapy was carried out. Consequently, I had a lot of pain, particularly in my ankle. I couldn’t walk for more than half an hour before I began limping.
It didn’t help at all that I’d begun putting on weight.