An awesome 10km and the suckiest reason not to be able to run

Before I went away on holiday, I finally ran a 10km! Not only was it the first time I had run this far since my half marathon, but it was also my first official 10km race! I ran in 59:28, and was very, very pleased to get a time under 1hr after all the faff and problems I've had with fractures and broken bones over the last year. It was only a minute-or-so off my PB, which I am now, of course, aiming to smash soon.

As for the course, it was a great flat route alongside the gorgeous River Thames in Richmond, London. It was a cool morning, but perfect temperature for running really, and the ground was moderately soft under-foot courtesy of some overnight rain, making the ground nice and soft for my poor injury-prone feet/legs.

It was also the second wear of my new compression socks, and so far, *touch wood*, they seem to be keeping the shin splints away. I know the jury is out bout their effectiveness at injury prevention during training (as opposed to recovery), but they seem to work for me and that's all that matters.

The whole experience also well-and-truly reminded me of the race day buzz, the excitement of the build up and the endorphins of the finish. I can't wait to sign up to some more! Only, oh yeah, it's the summer now. No-one races in the summer. Boohiss. But come the autumn, and I am hitting the races hard.

Plus, we got Haribo and lollypops at the finish, as well as the usual racebling and Lucozade. Who can complain about that?!

Anyway, so within a couple of days of the race, I was packed and on a plane to the sunny Greek island of Kos. This was a self-declared break from the hard graft I have been putting my body through recently, and although I stayed on the healthy eating train, shy of a few laps in the pool to cool off, I did absolutely nothing for the entire week, and I loved it. Honestly, I did...

Only, after about 5 days, I was looking forward to getting back to the gym and hitting the fields for a run. I was pretty much counting the hours until I was reunited with my running shoes, and despite a 4am flight home, fully intended to go out for a run the evening of that day (following a power nap of course!)

But, instead of being able to hit the pavements/meadows for a run, I'm stuck, unable to run, due to heat rash. I mean, seriously, what sort of medical condition means that you can't allow yourself to become excessively sweaty?! I know it's only for a few days whilst it clears itself up, but in the mean time, it's been nearly two weeks since I ran my 10km and I am now starting to go a bit mental.

I could go anyway, but it will make it last longer apparently, and I'm already struggling not to rip my skin off with my own nails. So I won't run. I really won't...