The slowest of starts

One thing is for sure, my phlegm distribution skills have improved no end. There was a time, mainly throughout my school years, when I'd run a mile rather than get sucked into a spitting contest, knowing all too well the embarassment of slimy discharge dribbling down my chin as another failed fob was stillborn. Taking these first few faltering jogs down the road in the general direction of Amsterdam (via any number of yet to be determined local stop offs) the remnants of the murky cough which has dogged me for so long has guaranteed a steady supply of practice material, which - with a firm roll of the tongue - has been despatched some impressive distances for my standards, and occasionally in the direction I intended. As for the running, its a case of little acorns being planted..... and the green shoots of recovery being as slow to show as a firm offer on a Birmingham Penthouse. The snowy conditions are an excuse I'm happy to jump on, but the back has also been a major problem, with much pain through the middle of the week compounded by my inability to get an appointment with the Osteopath until this morning. I tried. Oh yes, I tried, racking up about five miles on Wednesday and another 3 and a half on Saturday, but its not been the best start - that I have to admit. Still, another trip to the Osteo this week and if we can get some motion going then the flow of miles should follow. Sure as phlegm follows a good old fashioned chesty cough. Total mileage to date: 11.48 (not even a measly half marathon). Weight: who cares. Alcohol consumption: Moderate to heavy.