Eats strugles and leaves

I'm a bit worried that I'm having some kind of supernatural negative effect on anybody who dares to join me in any kind of sporting activity.
Back in May I started out running regularly with Marc who was one of the original Fat Bastard Running Club members way back in the day, as they say. We were getting on fine when a recurring back injury put him on the bench. Looks like he's out of the game for a while now.
Since then I have also been playing tennis with a friend called John Jo, who is several years younger than me as well as being significantly fitter and better at tennis.
Despite this I have taken a couple of games of him, oh yes, I've even broken his serve once or twice.
Anyway, we were due to play this morning as normal, (although the heavens have opened and God is taking one big slash right now) but he texted last night to say he's broken a rib! I didn't ask how.
So it is beginning to feel like anybody who joins in the whole fitness fun with me ends up with some kind of serious injury.
I wonder if I will suffer an injury of my own simply on account of being me?
I should have gone running last night but I didn't, shame on me. I am intending to go today, when the rain stops, and I have worked out a five mile plus route that should test me and increase the mileage sufficiently to stay on target for the half marathon. There is less than eight weeks left and I think I need to get in at least one ten mile run before it. I think it could be a struggle and I can't even begin to think about how much I have to do for the marathon itself.
Felt a bit lack lustre about most things yesterday so committed the sin of eating half a loaf of French bread with my home made spaghetti bolognese, which by the way is not spelt bolognaise as I have seen it recently on menus in service station restaurants. It may be a service station but there's still no reason for standards to slip that badly.
Not as funny as a huge banner I saw the other day advertising a fitness class for women called something like Amazon Training Session, with a picture of a fierce warrior princess over the top of the slogan Strength Through Strugle. I took a moment to wonder what Strugle might be and decided it could be a dessert dish of some kind, possibly from somewhere like Switzerland, with a Germanic influence, and felt that eating dishes of it would be a great way to achieve strength. Especially if I could have ice cream with it too.
By far the best example of this was a few years ago when a small Somerset newspaper (not the one I worked for I might add), ran a huge headline on the front page over the top of a picture of Yeovil's war veterans for its Remembrance Day parade issue, which said "Least We Forget". Oh dear.