Working Out The Pain

I may not have blogged for a while, but I’ve been writing frantically.   In the last three weeks I’ve produced about six short stories ranging from 1200 to 3000 words, I’ve entered two competition and received a valuable critique from a professional writer/editor who was more than fair in what he said and pointed out that the competition was for crime which usually means whodunit, whereas my story was more of a thriller.  So complete rethink required.  I’ve selected a locked room mystery instead.  Still needs some polishing, but I have until the 14th for that.

Also I’ve been out and about a bit.  Last weekend, my husband and I had four days up in the Yorkshire Dales, 41 caches and a lot of walking.  On the last full day we were there, we did a 4.5 mile walk around Janet’s Fosse and Malham Cove.  Truly spectacular landscape.  Well worth the visit.  Breath-taking.

No really, certainly took my breath away, but then I probably need to get a lot fitter (probably – ha! – who am I kidding, I definitely need to get a lot fitter). 

Anyway, I walked up to Janet’s Fosse, put a 2p in the Fairy Tree, walked up the slope, along to the top of Malham Cove (where Harry and Hermione camped in the last Harry Potter film), the down the hundreds of stone steps to the foot of the Cove.  I’ve had a bad knee for a decade now.  The doctors keep telling me that there’s nothing wrong with it, but for nothing wrong, it can be damn painful, to the point that I use a walking stick to support my weight (yes I admit it – I need to lose weight).  So most of the weekend I’ve been hobbling and leaning on the stick.  The evening before this one, I wasn’t even sure I was going to walk it anyway because of the pain.  But I did.  I took each step one at a time, keeping my bad knee straight on each step down and both feet touched each step.  By the time I was at the bottom of the Cove, I had had enough, I was in pain.  There was however, the distance to cover from the bottom of the Cove to the car park – a least a kilometre.  Thankfully it was all relatively flat and on goo paths.  So I walked it.

This is where it gets weird.

About halfway back to the car, I realised that I wasn’t leaning on the walking stick any more.  Then I realised I wasn’t in pain anymore either.

Later, though my muscles were tight, I had after all just been on an unusually long walk, I wasn’t in pain.  Any pain.  At all.  What’s more, it’s now Friday, and I haven’t had a single twinge all week.  I can walk up stairs without hauling myself up on the banister, I can sit in a chair without leaning on the arms, I can lower myself into the car without falling those last few inches.  It’s great!

I’m so happy and slightly worried.  As good as it is to be pain free again, I’d really like to know why, because if I can walk the pain away, there’s a distinct possibility that one day, I’ll walk it back and that I don’t want.

Anyway this blog is supposed to be about writing, and I did manage to write a short story while I was away, another crime fiction piece, so good weekend all round.

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