Today we were to train. Nothing unusual in that, but with a little over three weeks before the start of the Aspley 500, each session has taken on added significance. And today, our separate efforts were to have been large stepping stones towards our upcoming adventure.
For Paul it was his back. Still uncomfortable despite a rigorous regime of hot baths and stretching, this was to be his first time aboard the bike since the problem had returned. And for me I had planned to late enter the Bedford 10k, a sign of my growing confidence that my running is improving after a period of viral-related fatigue.
But it wasn’t to be.
At nine o’clock this morning we were called to the hospice. Dad had been through a bad night and was still struggling. All plans were instantly jetisoned as we hurried to his bedside. Thankfully we were able to witness his ongoing tenacity and stubbornness, as he made some improvement throughout the day.
But another day had slipped by. Is this foolishness, planning such a testing endeavour whilst Dad battles on with his condition? Or does his plight, his bravery and the astonishing care he is being given at the hospice fuel us in our determination to see this thing through?
Time will tell, but I am certain we will be doing our damnedest to make sure it is the latter.