Archive for the ‘injuries’ Tag

Exodus Advent: 89 Days To Go   Leave a comment

Crossed the 90 days remaining mark yesterday.  We didn’t have Dom Perignon (↑), but they were better bubbles than usual.

Started a massive To Do list to try to keep focused and productive this final stretch.  Edited Jackie’s citizenship forms and booked in a final checking service appointment.  Awaiting confirmation of start date to see when to move from here.  Can’t stop thinking about boxes — where to get them, how much to pack away now, etc.  All is chaos.

Nearly cut my left thumb off whittling last night.  The blade is sort of a surgical blade, curved and larger than the ones at work but essentially a scalpel.  Shouldn’t do pull cuts on such stiff wood (some really old rosewood from the arms of the Chinese Sex Chair) nor when the hands are really tired (I had been hacking away for 4 hours by then) nor, especially, when I’m that high.  It was not at all difficult to dislodge the blade from the bone but it definitely was stuck into it, about a midway between the knuckles.  A deep cut, it is only about a cm long so I’m not too bothered.  The sculpture is planned to be a hare in full flight and finally starting to assume shape close enough for me to start the fine carving.

 

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Posted September 23, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in work

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Running Month in Review: July 2018   1 comment

 

“On The One” Brolly Stand, Ruislip, Middlesex 21 July 2018

 

Total for July: 0 miles but trying to live life On The One, regardless.  Only four new pubs added to the list, but we revisited some cracking old pubs in my convalescence.

As of this post, the longest run I’ve done since 02 June is down a rail platform, two sets of stairs separated by the tunnel at Harrow-on-the-Hill Station (and the tunnel) and partway down another platform (maybe 100 meters all in).  Physical therapy continues, now 8½ weeks into at least 13 (and possibly 26) of weights and yoga.  Still in pain, but much more bendy.

 

 

So, I am moving around slow enough to notice different things (like the Bootsy Collins Boot-shaped Umbrella Stand) than when I was running 40-50 miles per week prior to crippling myself.  For instance, this is not the 2nd sighting of the Red Shorts Blue Shirt phenomenon (nor even was the first mention of it in this diary amongst the first 10).  But, now I see it everywhere.

 

 

Granted, some things were only noticed after a prolonged and complete stop.  One day, my bus to work came to a halt here:

 

 

Listening to some podcasts from news outlets in the States (da fuck is wrong with your government, kids?), concentrating on some ligament stretches the cramped bus seating allows, and studying the scene out my window, the scene, below, flashed at varying pace and intensity until it dissolved away and I found myself studying a similar landscape near Dahlonega, GA for a few moments.  A lorry zoomed past and rocked the bus and me back to my documentable location and I noticed there actually was a strobe light in my field of view:

 

 

Varying from 90 to 160 flashes per second (faster than which it blurs to a mostly continuous glare), the polished fins on this vent pipe reflected the sun for an instant as it past by.  The fins are twisted slightly and as the morning progressed, the flash point creeped downward .  I’m so fucking bored, not running and all, that this was one of the highlights of the month:

 

So much so that I didn’t even bother to get a decent photo of the item.  Kind of like this:

 

 

Not hungry when we passed it this weekend, I shortlisted this chippy (for the sign, alone) in West Drayton for a fish lunch on the run if I ever run again:

 

Posted July 31, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in art, Running

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Running Month in Review: June 2018   3 comments

 

A colleague introduced me to a lab visitor as a runner at the beginning of June.
“No, sorry. I’m afraid I gave it up.”
This news seemed to shake his grip on all that is holy in this world. “Really? When?”
“A couple of days ago.”
“Oh, so just a break, then?”
“No. When something is hurting you that much, no matter how deep your love for it you have to walk away.”

Persistent pain and weakness in my right leg led me to accept, after the loop run through South Harrow and Rayner’s Lane on June 2nd, that a period of enforced rest coupled with some targeted physical therapy was long overdue (my GP, also a keen runner, agreed and gave me the proper names so I could say more than, “hurt here, make stop, please”). It appears, more than anything, to be a strain or tear of the TFL combined with Iliopsoas Syndrome and a tight IT Band (ITBS).  Now 4 weeks into an initial 6 week recuperation, I can report….

The convalescence has also put a major dent in the number of pub visits I have to report as well as the amount and quality of the sightseeing available to me.  Hopefully, I can slowly return to running after Bastille Day (that will be at 6 weeks), but the tendon may need 12 (and maybe up to 26) weeks of low load conditions.

Pub visit write-ups are really taking a hit.  Of the first 94 pubs this year through the end of May, 88 were associated with one run or another; none since then has been on a run and as a result I can only hit a new pub if it happens to be nearby.  I guess my liver and kidneys are getting a well deserved rest, as well, but fuck ’em: we’ve been at war against one another too long for this truce to last.

Stats for June: 9.8 miles in two runs and approximately 45 hours of stretching performed along with a far too gradual shift in diet to complement the change in exercise regimen.

 

I am depressed:

 

Posted June 30, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Running

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The Grey Horse, Sunbury, Surrey   1 comment

 

Pub #2086:

I followed the advice of my drinking buddy at the Phoenix and hobbled into the Grey Horse near Sunbury Station.  A blister between my big-and-2nd toes had opened in the meantime and I decided to end the day here at the fifth pub, anyway; apparently, this is also the last pub for long-distance drivers to get their drink on, as well:

 

 

Not at all sure what a ‘meat bomb‘ is (sounds like an Isis tactic), but for £1 you might be the lucky winner:

 

 

I had a cider and settled in to let the rapidly abscessing toe air out a few minutes.  The bartender and only other customer at this time were rapt in conversation and I (uncharacteristically) did not interfere with it.  Probably for the best.

 

 

Posted April 7, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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Plough, Sipson, London   2 comments

plough-sipson-sign

 

The Plough was my intended first stop on the Heathrow Third Runway run, but I thought it had been converted to a restaurant (that one turned out to be a different one, before the King William but hey-ho!). I had imagined it in a bit more of a rural setting than the KW and, thus, a bit more at risk from the increased air traffic but, as it turns out, the William is in more directly in the flight path and the Plough will always have traffic due to the adjacent hotels.

 

plough-sipson-beer

 

 

I had a Ruby Witch, expecting something brownish but not nearly so dark, rich, and perfect: nearly as hearty as a porter.

I was about a mile and a half into the evening run after the mass spec conference and feeling pretty good about the day. By the next morning, I had sweated out a fever, slept 12 hours but still felt exhausted, and had a sharp, painful calf cramp that momentarily left a knot and, as the next day wore on, a bruise and left me barely able to walk. Giving it a day before calling the GP for an appointment.

 

plough-sipson

plough-map

Posted November 16, 2016 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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