Tailor Zwift

With two races in a week coming up, breaking my toe at BJJ on Monday was not on the agenda.

I'm not sure if weaker bones are a side effect of the chemotherapy, or it's just bad luck. Not content with breaking my finger a few months ago, I've now added a little toe to the list. Before APML, I'd never broken a bone in my life.

This particular injury came about during a kosoto gake sweep. I believe that's what it's called, my Japanese is about as good as my jiu-jitsu. My opponent landed with their full weight on my foot. At first I thought I'd injured my knee. I hobbled around a bit before carrying on with some sparring. The next day my foot was black and blue.

I visited the ironically named walk-in centre and confirmed the break on Thursday. The same day, I ordered a spin bike and, after setting it up yesterday, I became a Zwifty.

My plan is train on the bike to keep my fitness ticking over while my foot heals. I've not yet fully committed to becoming a "MAML" (Middle Aged Man in Lycra). BJJ will be off the menu again for a little while. I'm still planning on taking part in the race(s) I have planned. Each one will be a calculated risk. A good friend of mine managed the Berlin Marathon recently on a broken toe, so I should be fine. Famous last words.

I don't actually feel that down-hearted about the injury, as I've discovered a new way to train which will keep things varied and, let's face it, it's quite nice to train indoors occasionally this time of year.

On the subject of this time of year, it's always filled with mixed emotions for me. I love the festivities and spending time with friends and loved ones. My partner and I had a fantastic trip to York recently and I'm taking my Daughter on the Santa Train tomorrow. It's also a time that my Mum and Dad are at the forefront of my mind. My Dad passed away five days before Christmas, three years ago, I can't believe it's been that long, and this year will be the first Christmas without my Mum. 

I know, in some unfathomable way, they are still with us. The physical form is gone but they are still here on some level. I know that, and it comforts me. But I miss them.