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Whitechapel market

“Where else can you get a box of 10 mangoes for 3 pounds?” asks Sean D in his enthusiastic review of East London’s Whitechapel Market.

This was a question I failed to consider as I chose to run through it last Thursday afternoon as part of my final training for tomorrow’s British 10K London Run.

As I weaved deftly through the hoards of those in pursuit of inexpensive mangoes, I thought only of the ticking pedometer in my bum pocket, adding milliseconds to my run time.I had already covered 4K to get this far -only two left!

I dodged; I squeezed; I zigzagged.

I f**ked up my ankle.

“Don’t run through pain”, I heard a sensible voice in my head, so I walked. I walked past the nice old Queen Mary University, and the shiny new bit, and the bit that didn’t seem familiar or that or… where the hell was I?

I attempted another little gallop and stopped just as quickly. Oh look, a familiar address, Victoria Park!

Quite how I ended up on the far side of Victoria Park was somewhat bewildering, but being without phone, money or a Boris Bike location meant I had no alternative but to hobble home.

All NINE kilometres. (I traced it on my return almost two hours later.)

9K Walk

9K Walk 5.5 miles / 8.851392 km

Created 07.07.11 by eguinan

When I stopped walking, I found that I could no longer walk at all.  My first attempt to move from couch to foot resulted in my going white and the most excruciating pain in my ankle.

The FPO arrived home and was soon on the case with ice, elevation, tea and sympathy; I was looking up local hospitals (funny how they have ‘Walk-in‘ centres for this type of thing).

Friday came and there was no walking.

I sat on the kitchen floor to have breakfast, but later developed amazing one-legged hopping skills to get around. My Florence Nightingale delivered drugs and squeezy bandages at lunchtime. Merci.

So, dear readers and sponsors, race day is tomorrow. I can just about walk again after a day of PRICE and my sexy new ankle support.

My lovely ankle brace.

I’ve trained. I was ready. You’ve given me loads of lovely sponsorship money for Tacade. I really want to do it.

Something tells me that I may have to sit this one out.

Maybe I can have a muse about some important life questions

What the flip would anyone do with 10 mangoes anyway?