Boy am I miserable. After a check-up at the doc last week, I was instructed to rest and give my torn intercostal muscle time to heal. It’s meant no gym, no spinning and no running (not even at my slow pace which some might consider a stroll in the park).

I’m trying to be patient. I know that running the Old Eds 10km race two weeks ago was most probably not the wisest of moves and potentially made my condition worse. If only I had listened to my body, I might have started to heal much quicker.

To make things worse, everywhere I look, people are running. Scrolling through my Twitter timeline and running mates are gearing up for Soweto marathon. Others are kick-starting their half marathon training schedules into gear. KK is waiting to see whether or not City 2 City will go ahead. Me? Well I’ve been resting. Lying on the bed after work, glugging down glasses of glutamine and rubbing arnica oil on my side.

I’ve never been the most patient person. I confess that I wake up each and every morning hoping this irritating side stitch will go away. But it lingers…

In a way, it’s been a blessing in disguise. The ‘time off’ has allowed me to check in with my goals. I’ve realised what matters to me the most. I now know what I want to achieve with my running. I know what I want! In my head, I’ve decided on my new challenge. My new goal. My new training regime. But physically, not yet ready to launch… Come on body!