8 miles scheduled for Sunday.  Don't get round to it until the sun is setting as I's got stuff to do all day, innit? Take a meandering route round Ealing, up and down lots of hills (hills! voluntarily! aren't I good?). But in the last 1/2 mile my left knee starts niggling slightly.  And when I stop it suddenly throbs with a vengeance and feels like it is swelling up.

Please no. I can't be injured already, surely not? Get in and stretch and ice and massage and ice and massage and ice and ice and apply Tiger Balm and ice...

Monday is a rest day and in the morning it feels a bit stiff & achy but not too bad.  And it definitely feels muscular. Decide I've probably strained the muscle above the inside of the knee on one of my downhills. Cross my fingers. Muscular isn't so bad. 

Today it feels pretty much OK.  And so begins the Good Ruth / Bad Ruth debate:

Good Ruth: "You know you should be sensible and rest one extra day.  One missed run now makes no difference but if you strain it again you'll be out for a week or more."

Bad Ruth: "Aaaah. Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on." (Bad Ruth talks like Mrs Doyle from Father Ted).

Obviously, Bad Ruth wins and the trainers go on the second I get home from work.  5 miles is scheduled, but tell myself 3 max. And do 3.75.  But the knee is OK!  Fine!!  Let off by the skin of my teeth. Phew.