sky is falling

apparently it’s a myth that achilles’ heel was the only part of his body that wasn’t invulnerable. apparently the bit about him being vulnerable in his heel alone - and i assume in his achilles tendon as well - because that’s where his mum held him as she dipped him in the river styx, was made up later. makes sense to me. my own achilles tendons have long been a source of niggly pain. saw a physio and she shrugged her shoulders, said they were fine, told me to take up a different sport and asked for 35 pounds. i now know that they hurt when i’m stiff elsewhere. they are not uniquely weak, they are stiffness barometers. and they are crap at the start of this run. to bury hill. dank day. the clouds have descended and smothered the hills. everything is damp. heavy friday traffic. groundhog day as pass familiar bury hill dog walker. i look at dog, dog walker says hello in forceful way, i say hi there. same every time. decide to do some of wednesday’s run in reverse. leave bury hill. odd look to lake, one end frozen? throw little stone. tinkles. quick inspection of leaning pine. seems to be fully rooted, bizarre. muddy track becomes swamp. always gets like this. forgot. as slip and slide think of definition for tough runs like this - heads down. the downs loom. climb is steep then steeper then more modest, along pilgrims’ way, before final, straight up bit. slip straight away on sheer slick of darkly rum-coloured leaves. no way round. ‘these are not bulls’ says notice on gate at top of slick. sheer climb continues up slippery grass. slip. pass through cloud of drifting mist. stop before top to look back at cloud, and world. sky is falling everywhere. across downs towards vineyard. different route now from wednesday. follow high track into horrible wind. dog walker ahead. say hi as warning. dog walker jumps and immediately says ‘you said hi as a warning and i jumped anyway.’ can only manage to say yes and wave. ah, the long muddy avenue into a fierce wind, with complaining achilles. decide to take shortest route home, through the park. always seems to get much darker when you come in range of streetlights. suddenly it’s night.