Last week I tried a short slow jog of around two miles sandwiched between two cycle rides.

Wow!! Nothing remarkable about that, I know, until I stopped to think of what has been going on for the past year.

This time last year I developed a very painful foot and ankle that felt like it was bruised, strained, battered and tight. I thought it would never go away. I tried physio, orthotics or varying kinds, rest and supports but the problem didn’t seem to get any better.

I put weight on and have become slightly uncomfortable  with my size. Willpower doesn’t appear to be word I can stick to so dieting is disastrous. So I resigned myself to a life without jogging and cycling.

That the toughest part of my life. Although I quite like cycling its not a passion. Jogging was. I loved the full-on exertion and challenge that a run can give and the chemicals that flood the body. The sense of achievement was massive when one crossed the imaginary finish line after a 20 mile jog. In more recent years that distance was down to 6-10 miles but with similar results.

So when last week I donned some trainers, set my watch to jog mode and strode over the fields and back in a slow but determined jog I was delighted to cover 2 miles in around 18 minutes. I was breathless and hot at the end but high on happiness and achievement.

To round the session off with a 14 mile cycle was the cream on the cake. Brilliant.

Will I try again? You bet I will.

I  miss it so much and will beast myself to continue as long as I can.

Being forced to retire from something you love is not just hard its life-changing and depressing.

Some may think me mad (probably right though) but unless you have experienced the rush of exercise and the pure joy of pushing the body then you will find what I have said confusing and idiotic. If you have done this then you will understand the frustrations and problems that plague me now.

Do I stop and focus on something else or fight and never give up????