I've come to know a little bit more about that vulnerable part of our anatomy known as the Achilles Tendon over the last couple of weeks. I've also found lots of new ways to stretch, strengthen and generally mobilise it as well. But the one thing I've learned over everything else is; you can't rush it. It's going to heal in its own good time and that's that.

I thought it was going to put my chances of running the Marathon in jeopardy. It still does to an extent. But I'm pleased to report that I managed to haul myself around the perimeter of Richmond Park twice on Sunday - that's about 14miles of nasty hilliness while avoiding other, much faster, runners and lunatic cyclists. Oh, and people out for a Sunday stroll who think it's okay to take up the whole width of the path and not move out of the way when a finely honed athlete approaches. Yes, you know who you are, those who try to thwart my marathon record attempt.

So, long and short is I managed 14miles and nothing snapped. It wasn't very comfortable and I've not been able to walk since, but I'm in one piece. The inability to walk is nothing to do with my Achilles actually, it's just what running 14miles does to you when you're not used to it. Getting upstairs is particularly problematic. My legs just do not want to raise the rest of my body up those steps. Which is a problem as that's where my bed is. And after running 14miles that's where I want to spend a very long time...

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