You would have noticed the inverted commas in the word 'run' back there. To be honest, rather than 'run' I had more of an 'active shuffle' thing going on, but it was definitely not walking and it was as quick as I've covered the ground for a long time.
You won't believe this, but while I've been hors de combat, the council have been out and made all the lanes around here steeper. In fact, thinking about it, I expect all councils do this so they can watch the struggles of runners and cyclist's returning from an enforced layoff. Well, they did a good job around here, I can tell you. I felt like one of those, let's be charitable, chubby, souls being forced to undertake an exercise regime on one of those 'Let's Torment Some Fatties' reality TV programmes. It was ghastly. Not quite hissy-fit, burst into tears and stuff my face with comfort chips ghastly, but depressing nonetheless. I'm definitely at Level 0. And on top of that, the day after, I had an ache deep in my right, ahem, buttock which seems not to want to fade away. Great.
So why, with my Level 0, achy-arse, Max HR = 205 (something wrong, surely), utterly unfit condition am I strangely drawn to ultracollie's kind offer to accompany him on the Kentmere Horseshoe next weekend? Must be the thought of the 'very, very easy pace'. Mind you, it'll have to be. I can't do any other. Yet.
Smileyrating: 10/10 for getting out at all. 1/10 for the resulting experience!