Damn, blast and set fire to it

Picture the scene.

Its Ron Towers on a sunny July afternoon.

Youngest Cash Drainer The Sod leaves bike in garden.

Said bike throws itself at me as I walk past.

I go Blair over Brown and stott myself against a stone step.

Step enters leg and leaves yours truly with a gash the size of the River Severn.

Medical back up team not available (are you listening UK Athletics?) so have to go to hospital in back of Ernie's Transit.

Undignified scenes in a cubicle involving your hero, a nurse and a hyperdermic needle. I took exception to her "Its only a little prick" comment.

Now sat sitting here with leg bandaged and seventeen stitches holding it together*.

No running for at least a week.

And who was it that said life was a bowl of blackberries?

Keep on tapering.

Ron

* OK two stitches. But it hurt a lot.