It became apparent to me last week that I may have been overdoing things slightly. While keeping focused on training and preparing it dawned on me as I lay on a sun lounger in Ibiza that I was physically shattered. 6.30am gym sessions 5 times a week with long training rides at the weekends, shorter sprints midweek and the occasional running session whilst fitting in my 9-5 job and family over the past 5 months was taking its toll.
Some would argue that a week away so close to the biathlon isn't the most sensible thing to do but in hindsight I think it was the perfect thing to do. My initial intention was to have a morning run each day through the resort. This went to plan on the first day, however fate was to make it's move...and what a good move it was too.
Picture the scene...I'm sat on the terrace watching my kids join in with the party games on stage at the resort while reflecting on our first day in Ibiza. I had already nabbed our favourite spot by the pool (at 4am!!!!!), I had done a 2.5mile run in searing heat, played football for an hour, done a bit of swimming and generally had fun with Jo and the kids.
Zorro, the resort entertainer started the main event for the night, You Bet. I decided I wouldn't be one of the contestants but if there were any games I could get involved in, then sure, I'd be there. And then it happened. He bet one of the contestants that they could get 15 of the audience to make 15 paper airplanes which would fly beyond the 5 row of tables. THIS ONE IS FOR ME!!!!
I was there like a shot...I wasn't exactly running...more a fast walk. As I approached the stage a man walked in front of me, i shifted my weight to one side and then the numb, sickening pain went straight through me. I had managed to turn my left ankle right over...it was all split second stuff.
I sat down for a few minutes (while making my paper airplane which for the record didn't go past the 1st row of tables) and then made my way back to our table. The pain subsided and I carried on for the rest of the evening, sitting out any other invitations to get involved, before retiring to our room and bed.
At 4am I woke in agony. So much so that I began to vomit. I couldn't put any weight on my foot, I couldn't walk. The pain was similar to when I broke my wrist a few years back. Jo was anxious and wanted to call the 24hour rep line. I decided (in typical bloke fashion) to take some pain killers, and try to sleep with my foot cushioned by a beach towel. I honestly thought I had broken it.
The next morning I got up and was still having problems but I was able to walk although with limited movement. By that point I knew I hadn't broken it but was advised to rest, get ice on it and elevate it. And that's what I did. For 3 days I did nothing but lay by the pool. And do you know what, I'm glad I did. I've got back refreshed, rested and ready to put the finally 3 weeks of training in. I'm still not ready for any form of serious running but I know that come hell or high water I'll get around the 13.1miles of the Great North Run. Fingers crossed though I'll be ready to resume running this weekend.
I would like to have been past the £1000 mark by now on then fundraising side of things but hey ho...I'll keep plugging the biathlon and fundraising page in the hope that the sponsorships keep coming in.
http://www,justgiving.com/bobbymoorebiathlon
Until next time....
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