Promise made, promise kept

“The best way to keep your word is not to give it,
I don’t make promises ’cause promises die.”

said PM Dawn in the 90s.

Deep.

But I did give my word about 6 months ago:

…and so the only way to keep it was to follow through. And that’s what I did yesterday afternoon, before inviting Pastor Agony and his World of Pain Ministries to give me a day-long sermon today.

A few thoughts:

A year ago, this would have been mundane, routine. Yesterday, it took everything that I had. But I made it. And I fully recognise that it’s not a big deal to do this (and a whole lot more) for a lot of people, but these things are all relative. I’m going to slow down again now for a while. This just needed doing, it has been done, and now I can just gradually get back into gentle, shorter runs to continue to improve my fitness.

Post-Covid tachycardia is a real thing. I don’t need to go into details here, but that particular graph wasn’t particularly pretty for this run. And it continued to be particularly unpretty for quite a while afterwards.

On that note, if my heart does give up (and I really don’t think that it’s going to happen), please make sure that everyone understands that the virus is responsible:

Those with a history of COVID19 infection were more likely to have the following 12 months later: strokes, dysrhythmias (five different kinds), inflammatory heart disease (like myocarditis), heart disease (four different types, including heart attacks), other cardiac disorders (like heart failure), and clotting issues (like pulmonary embolisms).
The risks for each of these varied. For example, the risk of a heart attack was 63% higher among those with a prior COVID19 infection compared to those without an infection. The risk for myocarditis (inflammation of the heart) was 538% higher.

Don’t let the tin-foilers tell anyone it was the vaccine. In fact, go one step further and punch anyone that suggests it had anything to do with the vaccine – on my behalf, of course. Violence was never (ok, rarely) the answer when I was alive, but I see no reason to hold back now I’ve shuffled off this mortal coil.

And finally, the battle to get back to pre-Covid fitness continues. Just perhaps not at this level for the next few months.

But… I did it.

Day 676 – Five

First 5km since you-know-what this morning. Not fast, but limited by lungs and heat more than my legs, which makes a change.

So now, according to this optimistic prophecy of 103 days ago, I “just” need to knock 74 (point one) seconds off per kilometre in about 12 weeks. I think that’s doable.

And then we can start looking at some football again.

Day 518 – Yesterday, I held a horse

And today, I’m broken.

Taking my daughter to her riding lesson is a pretty simple task. A ten minute drive, a 50m walk to a convenient bench or tree stump over looking the arena while she rides, followed by a leisurely stroll back up to the stables (this bit does take a little time and effort) and then back home again. I did it last week with no issues.

Easy-peasy.

There was a slight glitch yesterday, though. Briefly, before the lesson began, there were more horses than people, and I was asked to hold a horse for a couple of minutes while the teacher popped off to get things sorted out. No big deal. I’m not a huge fan of horses, but I can stand there and hold a horse with the best of them.

I was given Stats to hold. Stats is huge, but he’s a lovely gentle giant. When we arrived, he was being ridden by a tiny 7 year old girl. Stats is ever so sweet. Holding Stats – bridled up with convenient reins – for a couple of minutes was going to be no big deal.

But it turned out that Stats didn’t want to stand. He wanted to eat, and I didn’t have any food. Quite reasonably, I’d left the obligatory post-lesson carrots on the tree stump. He wanted to wander, but I’d been asked to keep him away from the other horse in the vicinity. He wanted to play, and nudged and bumped me. He’s probably about half a ton of horse. But it’s all about letting him know who’s the boss. I stuck to my guns and gave him reassuring pats and nose tickles, despite his tugs and pushes.

Oh, and it wasn’t just a couple of minutes. It was ten.

Well, it turns out that in my current state, I actually can’t hold a horse for ten minutes. Well, not without the repercussions of being quite sore the next day. Wow: this scored HIGH on the Duvet Cover Hanging Scale. But I didn’t realise immediately, because as soon as I was relieved of my horse holding duties, (yes, a bit knackered) I went and sat down and watched the lesson for an hour.
Which was nice.

Only overnight did I realise that what is left of my muscles had been pulled and strained by a mildly enthusiastic equine. Everything hurts. My left arse cheek, particularly.

HOW?!?!

I have a thing I need to do today, so I am thoroughly dosed up with Myprodol, but wow. Who would have thought that just holding a horse for ten minutes could leave you in this sort of state?

Broken.

Heed my cautionary horse holding tale.