A quick visit to the osteopath on Friday turned out to be, well, a not very quick visit after all as Donald patiently got to grips with my mysterious jaw ache ( apparently coming from my neck) and did that clicky twisting thing that leaves a weird but not painful sensation behind it. As he is examining areas such as neck, back etc there are clues that I have learnt to tune in on in preparation i.e a positioning of my head to one side and the notable absence of those reassuring words "it is okay, I am not going to do anything" mean there is a clicky clicky moment coming up. From that realization onwards my job is to tense up all muscles in preparation and his job is to get in there with the adjustment a microsecond before that happens. Easy really. Anyway the neck is much improved but my much bashed around right knee that I mentioned in passing has been diagnosed as something I cannot pronounce nor remember. A few key words have stuck in my sieve like memory "split" " Patella" "tendon damage" "bandage" and most terrifying of all a practical demonstration of how the knee cap is grinding on all below it.
The following is me feebly trying to maintain some kind of fitness regime.
"So, will it make it worse to run on it?"
"Of course it will but that will not stop you so here is how to bandage it"
Then off he scuttles next door to relieve Garret of his stiff hip and spills my beans (so much for patient confidentiality) so now I am banned from running for a week. I reckon this is only so Garret who has upped his training can look good at the triathlon....still I do have a good excuse now. Methinks that words like "split" "patella" and possibly "tendon damage" may well be bandied around at the end of the month plus I will look a hero taking part at all......In revenge I left Garret to pay every cloud, silver linings and all that.
Sunday, 7 September 2008
At the tag end of the highland Games season the agricultural shows start. Where the Highland Games are Scottish to the core the agricultural show is British through and through reveling in a farming heritage that, despite the pressures and demands of the modern world still has grown men leaning on crooks and extolling the virtues of one beast be it bull or bantam against another. They are so timeless with their tents full of exhibits hoping to make that red rosette with the beautifully skilled being admired alongside the eternally hopeful. The weather was perfect for The Dalmally show this year and with no threat of Foot and Mouth etc to daunt it. We duly admired the Champion Bull, the chickens and ducks (we gravely discussed how one of our ducks would have beaten them all) and entered the dogs in the dog show. This is a rural delight so seriously taken by all from judges through competitors and audience. Goodness only knows what the former were looking for, and Lucy did not think much of this kind of walk...first you are brushed and titivated and them you go for a walk on a lead round and round in a big circle. They did get to have a go on the dog demonstration set up where they jump over wee hurdles and then catch a ball AKA Crufts and then run back. They showed more willingness than skill and entertained the audience...who wants to watch a flawless performance anyway. The duck race in the river did not fail in entertainment value either as the little bobbling ducks helped by the wind declined to bob in the direction of the winning net stretched across the river. Enter stage right children and dogs to swoosh them on their way with great humour and patience. After that a candy floss eating competition i.e get it down you fast before you get in my car.....Once mixed with the still clinging mud from last week end and we may never get the seats clean.