Drago
Legendary Member
- Location
- Suburban Poshshire
You had to spend a morning in Gravesend? You may need counselling to recover.
I'm giving a like for the write up and for the determination to complete it when you can.Day 7
Unfortunately this was the day it all fell apart, though it started with a rush to the station. Dithering over what kit I wanted to change, I left myself less time than I really should have, and ended up pushing hard on the 5.5 km back to the station. I was too late to use the road crossing, with the barrier down, so I hoisted my bike on my shoulder and went to run over the footbridge. Somehow I missed the step the first time, jarring my right leg a bit, but after regaining my balance I carried the bike quickly over the bridge and jumped onto the arriving train.
I arrived in Carlisle, picked up the tickets for my journey home from Scotland at the end of the week, got some breakfast and then set off north, past the big Kingmoor rail yard and onto the road parallel to the A74M that takes you to the border. It was obvious that something wasn't right. My right ankle hurt on any hill, and I was getting slower. I did at least rach the border - I had ridden from the SE of England to the NW corner of the country
I sat on a bench in Gretna Green, not far from the famous Blacksmith's shop where people used to elope over the border to get hitched, took some Ibuprofen and started to consider my options. The pain in my right leg seemed to be a couple cm above my heel, and hurt at the point where I switched from pushing down to pulling up on the pedal. Before long I was going to be riding into the Borders, and a lot of hills with little in the way of public transport, and if anything the right leg felt like it was spreading.
In the end, after ringing my Dad (an ex marathon runner) who basically advised me I was probably risking further damage, I decided i would set off riding again, and hope the pain would settle down by Lockerbie. Unfortunately, not far out of Gretna Green it was obvious that the soreness/pain was getting worse, and it felt like my left achilles was starting to come out in sympathy. After standing staring up the long straight B7076 longingly, I reluctantly concluded that carrying on wasn't a good idea, and turned back south to Gretna Green, where I caught a train home.
It's taken me a few days to feel like writing the rest of this blog. If anything I was sulking for the last couple days I was also looking up what could cause such a feeling, and I'm pretty certain I had too high a saddle, and I was ankling when climbing steep hills. My achilles tendons were becoming inflamed, and I've had them on ice and elevated trying to sort them.. Today I went out for an 8 mile ride, still with my right ankle strapped up. It didn't feel too bad, but there is still some slight soreness.
I'm intending to finish the ride. I've not decided yet whether to head back south and do the lot, or just ride the Northern section I didn't manage. I'm still annoyed with myself if it was the saddle height.