But then, it has been a while since I have been anywhere.
It is now 5 weeks since I broke my ankle and had to have surgery.
In that space of time I have experienced the emotional lows of having my surgical cast removed and seeing my wounds for the first time. I also had to have my full cast replaced 2 weeks after having it put on due to a blood clot risk, and the fact that the cast had become too lose.
On top of that I have experienced significant muscle wastage in my leg and I really didn't expect to experience the pain that came with that. Severe cramping pain as soon as I stood and tried to move around, that increased the longer I stood upright.
That pain seems to have eased but any muscle that had built up through running has gone, and I am left with loose soft flesh in its place.
I am pretty much trapped in the house, with the same four walls for company, and it has been a little mind numbing to say the least.
I have managed to escape the house a few times, but it is not a comfortable experience and can not be done with all of the children. I have to be in a wheelchair with a leg elevation attachment which means that we can't use a pushchair at the same time. (There is no one to push it, and no room in the car.)
I have tried to keep myself occupied with books, crochet, and the occasional movie, and the children have been brilliant. Even the little ones have been really careful around me and I have thoroughly enjoyed cuddling up with them on the sofa at every given opportunity.
This situation has not been easy on anyone but I am amazed at how well they have coped and adapted to the fact that I am no longer their main care giver.
Next week I will be returning to hospital to have my cast removed and I am rather terrified about what the outcome may be.
I'm afraid that they will tell me I need a new cast (which could end up being the undoing of my sanity), but I am even more afraid of being told that I don't need a new cast.
The idea of my security 'blanket' being taken away turns my stomach.
No more solid shell to protect the ankle that has been cut open and pinned back together, with a metal plate thrown in for good measure.
I know that my fear is irrational and that there are hundreds of people that have had the same procedure who have recovered, but I can't help it.
I am terrified about walking again for the first time, and it is going to take a long time to get over the fear of hurting myself again, but I have to do it.
I will do it.
After all ...... I have a marathon to run!