Well, I know you’ve all been on tenterhooks about my sore leg. It’s been a bugbear as it’s been really horrible not being able to run properly.

I visited the lovely Anu at Liz Hunter’s physiotherapy clinic in Cockermouth after I cried down the phone at the lady who answered it there to convey how much pain I was in, so I could get a quick appointment.

I’m not entirely sure it was justified, but I felt full drama queen mode was needed.

It had been one of those days.

Anyhow, it turns out I’d locked some joint or other at the top of my leg.

She reckoned it was partly due to the horrific marathon walk thing that I did, so I took great pleasure later in blaming Dianne.

I wasn’t really paying attention to what she was telling me was wrong with me, as she was pressing what felt like shards of hot metal into my lower back to loosen it all up.

I double checked and it turned out they were her fingers.

Ouch, it was sore. She’s such a lovely woman, but she must have a sadistic streak as she didn’t half dig in, all the while chatting away as though I was at the hairdresser.

I was quite impressed though, as she did compliment me on keeping the weight off – I hadn’t seen her since before Christmas when she tackled my calf.

So, I was unlocked and sent away with strict instructions to do exercises to strengthen my upper leg muscles.

“It’s up to you now,” she said. “You’ll have to do the work to prevent the injury reccurring.”

They’re easy exercises – all I have to do is lay on my back and raise each leg off the floor slowly 10 times, building up to 20 times, twice a day.

So I was determined to do the exercises. Honestly. How hard could it be? I spend a lot of time laying down (granted, I’m always almost asleep, but you know, there’s those five to 10 minutes before I drop my Kindle on my face and slip off into the land of nod).

I lasted until Thursday. Before I got out of bed and before sleep, I raised and lowered those legs like my life depended on it.

Then... well, I don’t know what happened – it just stopped. I have consistently failed to do a single exercise since.

It’s not that I’m not thinking about it, but when I do, it’s inconvenient. Like now, for instance. I think my colleagues would object if I suddenly dropped to the floor and began.

Although, saying that, they know me well enough by now to probably not bat an eyelid.

And the stupid thing is, it’s affecting my running.

It was continuous hill reps on Monday at BodyFit.

Sullart Street, Walker Street – you name a hilly street in Cockermouth and it’s included.

As sad as it is, I love these. My body seems to get used to the reps and I usually improve every time we do a rep.

Not on Monday. I was slower than normal, then found myself having to stop halfway up a hill and walk the rest of the way.

I was obviously looking like I was in pain, as Sam stopped me doing a particular rep and then advised me not to do the muster run on Thursday. Normally, you need a sick note signed in triplicate from your doctor.