My Old Goat with the 3-litre diesel engine is having trouble with his chassis. He pulled a hamstring during our speed work yesterday and now there is talk of that ghastly 4-letter word that runners hate to mention – REST. Hence him reading in bed while I’m on the treadmill.
The dogs obviously think it is a most fabulous idea. I, on the other hand, am shattered. I thought my OG was invincible, something like Chuck Norris. The type of person that will finish a race on a broken ankle and tell you he’s fine. He loves to knock off a 21km in the morning and then take the dogs for a walk up the mountain in the afternoon. And now I find he has weak spots – oh the shock of it! He needs to get that hammie right soon though. I’ve been spoilt with my live-in running partner – I can’t go back to running solo.