Almost stickless

A week on from the Scotmid adventure and I am becoming quite bold. A slow but sure circuit of the block (800m?). Stalking the corridors of power at work. All the way to the bus stop on the way to Physio. And each time the pain is a bit less, and my step a bit more confident. But I still feel woozy at times. A strange sort of sea sicknesses. Its been quite some time since I walked properly - without thinking carefully about each step.

My Physio dictates some new exercises. Trying to stop my foot collapsing inwards. Another small thing stuffed into my shoe. And I have to start jumping. Every second day. Twenty jumps. This, not surprisingly, hurts. Meanwhile on the wobble board I am starting to feel more balanced. Thirty seconds is the test. And I'm almost there. But I still attend the hospital twice a week. And that next operation is looming...

Back on my bike on the Prom my knee complains habitually but I feel ready to tackle the road. And the traffic. This may be a false confidence. Brought on by the sudden stickless freedom. And the relentless boredom of pedaling slowly up and down the same route day after day. And I'm weak as a weak thing. With a certain reluctance for emergency stops. And no way of returning in the event of an unfortunate break down. But I've set my heart on a ride to Musselburgh. Which is absolutely nothing to do with the safety of the route - and everything to do with ice cream.