I needed a 6.5 km recovery run this morning. The mileage was specified by my training plan, although the distance wasn’t really the important thing. What I really needed was to regain confidence and enjoy my run after Saturday’s tough long run.

As I ate my pre-run porridge I caught up with my eldest daughter through messenger. My daughter lives far, far away in a land where day is night and night is day. We often catch up in the sleepy, twilight moments between sleeping and waking. This morning I woke and checked my phone for messages and, sure enough, there was a message from my girl, with a shocking photo of a deep gaping wound on her knee. She had fallen while running with her dog. The result was eight stitches and a strapped up leg. I reflected that this running is a funny business. The idea is to make us healthier; it works for the most part.

I set off for my run with my daughter very much in my thoughts. I’d also gained a little perspective on my self pity over Saturday’s run.

The morning weather was ideal. Not too warm, breezy with a light spritz of drizzle. Perfect. My times weren’t anything special, but I felt strong and fabulous.

I arrived home recovered, exhilarated and ready to deal with the multiple frustrations of the day (including a car that wouldn’t start, but that’s another story).

It will take my daughter time to heal, but I hope her recovery will be swift.


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