You’ll probably know by now, that I’m not much of a runner, despite having this inner desire to be the next Paula Radcliffe, my actual running ability is non-existent. The Mr on the other hand, just ran his first marathon. Yep, all 26.2 miles of it, and is determined to run another, and not just run one “one day”, apparently, he’s going to do another this year. Now, there’s a part of me that is slightly concerned that it’s just so he can go on long training runs, you know the type that means he’s gone for several hours and I’m beginning to wonder if it’s just a good excuse to get away from me… but I’m sure it’s just that he loves running, right? Right?
Anyway, it turns out that running a marathon requires some serious training, who knew hey? And despite good intentions, and a pretty impressive training plan, which was going very smoothly, Mr B picked up an injury. Self-diagnosis meant he was convinced it was a pulled muscle in his knee, but after his ‘nagging’ wife persuaded him to go see a sports physio it turned out it was his glute that was the issue, which in turn was having an impact on his knee. A session of acupuncture, some serious multi-coloured tape, and suggestions to give foam rolling a go, he was good to run again.
Several months before all of this, the lovely people at Herbalife had sent me a fit-kit, complete with massage ball and foam roller along with a variety of other goodies. Not really knowing what it was or what to do with it, and rarely suffering from the dreaded doms these days, I popped it under my bed and thought little more of it…until the hubby came home from his physio appointment and I spotted him googling ‘foam rollers’, and with a sudden realisation of ‘ohh, that’s what it is’, I ran upstairs and appeared with said foam roller.
Fast forward a couple of hours and I can hear groans coming from the bedroom, slightly concerned that he’s now having an affair, I wander in to find him rolling around on the floor in a weird contorted position moaning. So despite that pain, and he assures me that’s expected, foam rolling is really good for you. It might involve some crazy-ass ‘Twister-style’ moves, and the feeling that someone is burying their knuckles into you, it supposedly works wonders. So since then (which was a good 8 weeks ago) I’ve had to get used to the moans and groans of my husband as he foam rolls his butt for half an hour every evening.
With marathon weekend upon us, and Mr B not feeling quite as prepared as he’d liked, I noticed that not only does his case include his running kit, emergency jelly babies and a protein packed porridge pot, his foam roller is in there too, it’s even coming to Paris with us…I’ve officially been replaced!
And whether it was down to the foam roller not, he completed the marathon in 3 hours 50 minutes, and I couldn’t be a prouder wife, plus we got a rather lovely weekend in Paris out of it, filled with crepes, pastries, and some very stiff legs…marathon watching is hard work you know!