So – I dutifully waited 2 weeks before returning to hockey yesterday to test out my dodgy hamstring.
And for once I'd done all the things you are meant to do. Not my usual approach to mending some bodily up (stick head in sand, moan about it a bit, hobble for sympathy and eat crisps), but had actually for once tried to do the sensible stuff.
Rested it (quite liked that bit), sprayed it with Deep Heat (my bedroom reeks and it seems to bring Mr H out in a terrible rash, especially when applied to his towel, whoops), had several baths (also liked this bit), had a deep tissue massage (bloody painful), had a soft massage (bit woosy) and perched like a fat twat on the powerplate at the gym while it vibrated & stretched my thigh, supposedly into submission.
And lo and behold – it lasted 15 mins in the first half, so much so that I thought I might get away with it. But of course no – it twanged like a flipping banjo in the second half and here I am, back to the witchlike hobbling and crisps.
Arse.
Still, if you're reading this perhaps you will have extra sympathy for my pathetic plight and sponsor me an extra 10p when I undoubtedly tap you for some sponsorship for trying to run the Hyde Park 10k in January. Or hop it. Or just crawl. God knows how, but get round I somehow will (perhaps a trail of Sensations on the Finish line??!)
Yours in crippledom.
Hopalong xx