Boom! I bolted — no warm-ups, no stretching, whatsoever. I sprinted to what felt like the 100 meters finals. And then, midway through, it happened. A knife cutting sensation ripped through my left thigh. I lost my balance and crashed to the ground.
There I was in agony in the middle of the street, clenching my leg with all my strength. A few passersby would stop by to check on me and with an air of sympathy asked if I was okay, then proceeded on their way. Still in pain, an elderly lady, Eva, came towards me. She asked “todo bien Amigo?” – Are you all alright? With the little Spanish I spoke, I told her what happened.