Last night I went to bed at 8.30 and managed about ten hours occasionally interrupted sleep.
Woke up determined to do my five k walk.
Dropped my insulin basal rate about fifty minutes prior to the walk. Did the ablutions. Walking gear on. Packed my emergency jelly beans and sultanas, keys, set my GPS tracking device and I was off, singing along to the Glee version of Hold Onto the Feeling. Down the street, turn left, bit of blue sky, only a bit of light rain showing on the radar but I had my rain jacket on so I'd be okay. I had hit my stride then WHOOOPPHH WHOP I hit the road.
Agony and I was lying on my side in the gutter on the street corner. I had skidded on the damp footpath? A leaf? There was a skid mark about a meter long showing my trajectory.
My headphones were still blaring Everybody Wants To Rule The World. I popped my plugs out whilst still lying on my left side.
A couple who'd kindly pulled off the road to help leaned over me. She was wearing a uniform. How lucky, I thought. A nurse. You see, I was in pain and wondering if I'd broken something.
No, I work in pathology, she said, still bending over me. Are you all right?
Do you think you could help me up?
Suppose they were wondering whether I should be moved.
With one of them on each arm, I struggled to my feet, thanked them and began to limp up the hill, thinking I'd bloody well, do my five k anyway.
Until realised I was really hurting in my left knee and foot.
So I managed 1.98 k this morning, most of that limping. Now I'm ice-packed wondering whether I should get the foot x-rayed.
Best laid plans.
