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WRR Injuries & Stories
This
page is designed as a bit of fun .... had a fall or injury, laughed at
someone else's expense whilst on a training run or indeed on a social
event (well, we have lots of those!) then let me know.
Submit your photos, stories, jokes others mis-fortunes to nicki.harris01@btinternet.com.
The Idea for this page came
from Andrey Starcevic.
Annette's
knees
. . . after falling down a pot hole! |
Brian's
toe - full story below |

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Parky's
side after a trip at White Peaks 2008
. . . and we all missed it!
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Brian's
knee - full story below
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Pete's
Santa Run injury - Dec 2008
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Nicki's Knee |

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| 'Parky
Falls' |
Parky's hand after a Sunday Run ...!
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Daft as a Brush
It would be good
say that this injury was
caused by the rigours of recent marathon exploits and continued good
form post
marathon, or perhaps by a high speed bicycle crash, or a Scree Run down
some
mountain fell.
But alas this
mishap was caused in the pursuance
of attempting to recapture one’s youth during the Adults v Kids
football game
on a Kingham Saturday afternoon.
The kid’s insisted
that we adults had to
play in bare feet. The gauntlet was truly thrown down by the youngsters.
Our team had a
solid Ex-footballer spine of
Jeff Mason, Chris Gallagher and myself. We had Flying Dave Parkins
giving us
natural width on the right, and with Beck (5 goal) Mason pulling the
trigger up
front, these kids were in for a tough afternoon.
We raced into a
3-goal lead, but got pegged
back. It was nip and tuck, our experience and superior physical
conditioning
meant that we kept our noses in front, but this countered by some of us
having
done the Kingham 7.5 mile run that morning in warm conditions and
copious
amounts of Stella.
It was going to be
first to 10, but as we went
9-7 up, those pesky kids changed the rules and decided it should be
first to
12. Perhaps they sensed they had the superior fitness in the latter
stages of
the match.
However in a
tactical masterstroke “Fabio”
Mason put the tiring Parky in goal and brought on fresh legs with super
sub
Kirsty. Now our Kirsty gets right stuck in, Chris was wincing at every
challenge. Although Kirsty wasn’t actually able to kick the ball with
either
foot, the injection of pace confused the youngsters, and openings were
created
for others. Our 1-year Pup Archiebaldus Labradorous (the king of the
dribble) also
made a fleeting appearance, which further confused their defence. In
fact he
almost got the game abandoned as he tried to sink his fangs into the
match
ball. The goal posts got moved again to the first to 15.
We struck three
quick goals and demoralised
our young opponents by ending up winning 15-9. They were indeed taught
a harsh
lesson (however I believe Chris Gallagher and yours truly have been
cited for
over zealous play and are currently awaiting to hear if we will be
banned from
next year’s game).
So like Gazza in
Italia 90, who played
tennis in the searing Sardinian sunshine the day before the World Cup
semi
final, I chose also to leave the comfort of my picnic chair and played
football
in bare feet on rock hard ground. I showed Nurse Martin Fowler my
Wootton
coloured toe. He said it might be a minor fracture, so it looks like
cycling
only in the immediate future.
Was it worth it? Well you see I scored the 15th and
match clinching goal to ensure there were no Gazza type tears.
Of course it was
worth it. Roll on 2010 (by
the way ladies it’s World Cup year).
Cheers
Brian Singleton
____________________________________________________________
Superman and Me
Thought
I would get the story in before anyone else for the injuries page.
While
running on Thursday, during an effort session, some of you may have
heard the reports of a sudden lamppost related injury, well this is the
true story of that fateful night as seen through the eyes of the main
character.
As
we came to the penultimate session we had to complete a one
minute effort, “easy” I hear you say, well our group was quite large
this night and with cries of “get off the road, stay on the path” from
the group leader we were all crowded into an area the size of a mini
cooper.
As I
decided to put on a burst of speed and separate myself from the pack I
was nervous about the closeness of numerous legs and feet all trying to
go faster. With my head down (watching feet) and my arms pumping (to go
faster) I saw a gap and opted to go for it and break free. Suddenly up
ahead the bodies parted (in the best Moses and water tradition) and I
saw my arch nemesis ‘The Lamppost’ ahead. Trying to swerve around the
said object I struck it a glancing blow.
The
result, I was winded and hit the ground very quickly, there was a
jumble of other bodies and luckily most got off with minor injuries. I
suffered internal bruising to the rib cage and a broken watch, not a
Garmin to save the cries of woe from all you gadget runners.
The
lessons learnt are many but I will summarise:
1. When running in groups
use the keep left rule and don’t bunch.
2. It doesn’t matter how fast you run there is
always someone faster behind you.
3. Don’t look down, look up; or at least split your
attention equally between both.
4. Lampposts are not frangible and they will always
win the argument against your soft pink body.
I
would finally like to thank Andrey Starcevic, Steve Borondy, Pete
Diamond and Bobby Holding, and anyone else I have missed in my post (no
pun intended) traumatic daze.
Ian
Rogers
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The call of the wild
Well you know how it is,
your enjoying
your running, deep into a training programme and nothing is going to
defeat you
in going out the door.
Such
was I a
few weeks ago, it was the day the unexpected first snow of winter fell
on Northants.
The
weather
that Tuesday started brilliantly, I even had some washing pegged out in
the
morning. The current Runners World contained an article about making
the best
of the winter sunshine by fitting your run in at lunchtime. I intended
to do
this but work conspired against it.
The
sky
darkened in early afternoon, I retrieved the washing and decided
bullishly that
if I got out the door by 4ish I could probably get the session done
safely
around Salcey
Forest,
which is about half a mile from
my front door.
After
the
usual pre-session faffing i.e. IPOD music selection, Garmin checking,
drinks
bottle, house key stashing, I left at 4.15 and again at 4.18 after
forgetting
my gloves.
It was
raining and a bit cold, but I didn’t mind that and the forest offers
quite a
bit of protection. The session was 1 mile warm up 5 miles tempo at 7.30
pace
and 1 mile cool down (how appropriate the proved to be).
I reached the one-mile
point, safe in the
knowledge that despite it being half term there would be no prams and
yappy
dogs in the forest on such a foul afternoon.
Off I set on the 5-mile
tempo. The rain turned
to sleet, but it was not too bad and I was really enjoying being the
only
nutter in the forest. After about 3 miles I was aware it was now
snowing, and
it was lying, however the trees kept most of it off.
On my last
loop, it really started snowing heavily and I could not believe my eyes
when I
came across a guy pushing a buggy with his yappy dog off the lead who
proceeded
to attack me. I had to stop until he got it under control, I started
again,
mouthing obscenities about keeping dogs on their leads, and what the
hell was
he doing in the forest anyway in a snow storm in the dark!!!!
I pushed
myself in the last mile, I wasn’t going to quite do the 37.30 for the 5
miles
as the paths were now quite treacherous, but wanted to get close. 0.4
miles to
go, I swerved to avoid a large puddle, lost my footing and ended up on
the
floor.
Now this was no Jeff Mason at Snowdonia type
fall, but I was going a fair lick at the time. I leapt straight up and
completed the 5 miles in 39.06, not bad for the conditions I felt. I
stopped to
catch my breath, looked all around me and suddenly felt very alone in a
dark
forest with a snow filled sky.
I still had a mile to
get home, my hands
suddenly went very cold, and my gloves were soaking from the snow and
the dive
in the puddle. I crossed the road and realised how bad the snow was. I
took
another forest trail to get to Hartwell.
My
arm and side now started to hurt from the fall and my hands were now
painful
from the cold. I trudged on feeling very sorry for myself.
My hands were so cold I
contemplated an
Oates (I may be away for some time) walk off the track into the trees,
or maybe
if I just lay down like a soldier on the Russian Front a warm glow
would come
over me before the demise.
But
I eventually reached the village. I dearly
hoped Karen had not gone out for a run, as I don’t think I could have
unlocked
the front door. Alarmingly I spotted the unmistakable imprint of a size
5
running shoe on a footpath. Thankfully
she had abandoned her run, and I burst through the door howling with
pain from
my freezing hands and bleeding from the knee. It took ages to get some
feeling
back, and after a hot bath and Nurse Daly dressing my leg, I felt some
sort of
smug satisfaction that the session was in the bag.
What a strange
bunch we runners are.
An anecdote,
and this absolutely straight up, the music I listened to during the run
I had
downloaded that day using an I Tunes voucher that Mark Fowler got me
for my
birthday. Yes you’ve guessed it was the new inappropriately named album
called
A Hundred Million Suns by SNOW PATROL
Moral to the story if you’re going to go out in Arctic
conditions, unlike Scott’s expedition get a team of Huskies. (Well
Karen is
pining for a dog).
Cheers, Brian Singleton (photo above)
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