Grounded by Dartmoor and a little elastic band

Progress is afoot with a 20-mile run across the moor and a mysterious band that plugs into the wall

Ah Dartmoor, how you basked in the sunshine, luxuriated in the spring warmth, the bright, crisp light, your last soggy patches glistening before they too would be evaporated away. The grass was already turning yellow, the tors standing hazy on the tops of the faraway hills we had yet to reach.

A few weeks ago - as some of you may recall - I was beginning to despair. I had two Dartmoor running weekends coming up and I could barely run even a kilometre without everything hurting. But here I was on Saturday, ensconced within our little band of merry men and women, following on behind Colin and his trusty map, across mile after mile of rugged moorland, with barely a twinge from my heel.

I say “barely”, because it wasn’t 100% fine. I could feel it, still not quite right. And after 20 miles, I did indeed stop. Partly because it was starting to niggle a little bit more, and partly because, after four months of hardly any running, I was exhausted. But 20 miles was a big step in the right direction. I just hoped I hadn’t overdone it.