It's a twister!

Looks like I'm beating the bad weather.
I've been out about three times on my own in the past few weeks in the crappy winter storms, and managed to keep going and get through it.
I make that point about being on my own merely because it is so much easier to stay at home if you're not meeting anybody for a run, but I've resisted that temptation.
Besides, there really are many more people doing far worse things on a daily basis than worrying about a little bit of wind and rain. People get shot at or blown up in Afghanistan for a living, or abused on the emergency wards of Bristol's hospitals or school classrooms every day. None of which I've ever thankfully had to contend with.
The chocolate ban is working well too I feel, suddenly starting to feel much less flabby and the huge belly that wobbled a few feet in front of me wherever I went has gone.
Although I am still a fairly hefty chap and have several stone to work through.

Had a great run last night. I was down to do 50 mins on the plan, so actually headed out on a route that I thought would take an hour, and deliberately went out of my way to make up the time. But when I got home I looked at my watch and it had taken 54 mins, so I'm definitely getting quicker.
I had a horrible moment half way through when I thought disaster had struck. I was running up one side of the Downs, the side that is lit (although not very well), and stepped of the kerb to cross the road when I felt my ankle twist underneath me.
It was that horrible sickening feeling which produced a string of extreme expletives as I stumbled across the road.
For a second or two I thought I was going to collapse in the road with some major ligament damage and I could already imagine the doctor saying to rest it for two months and what a disaster that would be for the run.
It really made me realise just how important this whole thing is to me. In a split second the thought that I might not be able to take part due to a stupid injury filled me with devastation and anger. I was extremely and offensively angry at whoever it was that had decided not to have very many lights along that stretch of path, and for having to look out for cars coming up a road which should be pedestrianised.
I was just thinking about calling Amy to come and rescue me in a medi-vac style when I realised the pain was subsiding as quickly as it had risen. After a few seconds I was walking on it and within a minute I knew I could run it off so started back on my run and it was fine. All a bit melodramatic perhaps, and a good job no passing vicars were around to hear me, but it was a horrible moment in which everything felt like it could come crashing down, me included.
Glad to have a rest day today mind, although the ankle feels fine, back to it tomorrow ahead of a 100 minute run on Sunday, which I'm really looking forward to.