The Struggle

It has been one whole month since Snowdonia.  One month since I achieved something I didn’t think possible.  One whole month since the runner’s high was felt and quickly disappeared.  One whole month of doing absolutely bugger all.

I am feeling dreadful.  I am struggling.  I am lost.

You’ll remember from my previous post I mentioned some foot pain.  Well I finally went to my lovely sports therapy lady (Hi Carmel!) who has been putting me through torture.  The pain has pretty much gone.  Going back to see her this week.

Because of the pain, I’ve not been running.  I have done nothing.  I couldn’t do the LB Dirt Half, my absolutely favourite half.  The Bedford Half this weekend is definitely out.  MK Winter Half is also a no go.  I am incredibly sad by all this.

I decided last week that doing nothing was stupid.  I’ve put on weight.  I feel terribly unfit.  Let’s go do something.  So I went for a swim.  Well I can’t swim.  I had lessons earlier this year and was gaining confidence in the water. Then stopped. I tried to go a few months ago in the big pool and panicked.  So my new plan for swimming is to take my trusty kickboard with me and just do as many lengths as I can with it.  Get used to the size of the pool.  And eventually lose the kickboard.  Last week I managed 20 lengths in as many minutes.  I am going again this week and will try to do the same.  Perhaps more, but see how I go.  So that’s something.

The following day I returned to the gym for the classes I used to love.  Core Stability.  Booty Blast (yes, BOOTY blast).  And Body Pump.  Well crikey.  I am so angry with myself for not going to these classes for so long.  Not that long ago I felt myself getting stronger, in my core, my legs.  It was good.  Last week?  Oh the pain!  I did core and booty, but I could not then do another hour of weights so didn’t do Body Pump.    How annoying!  My legs were like jelly for days after!  It’s amazing how quickly you can lose strength and fitness.  This week I will be heading back to the gym to get myself back into it and build my strength again.  I know I’ll be able to do it.  I’ve done it before.  It’s just getting the motivation to do it.

This is something I am lacking.  Following Snowdonia, I was happy.  Deliriously happy.  But that faded.  So quickly.  And particularly being injured, I felt worthless.  I still do.  I know I’ve achieved something amazing, but that’s done, it’s gone.  My motivation now is to be a potato and drink myself silly.  Which is just stupid.  I know this.  But I don’t know what to do about it.  I’m lost.

I ran out of my medication recently and forgot to order my prescription again.  I have this now and took my first pill yesterday.  Seeing the doctor next month.  I’m low.  I’m not great.  Not in a good place at all.   Maybe it’s when I’m lower that I want to drink more.  I’ve had yet another heavy weekend.  I’ve let people down.  Again.  Why do I do it?  Just because I’m feeling bad?  Or because I’m being who so many people still see me as. I've noticed this more recently.  I don’t mind people laughing at me, with me, calling me “the drunk” – it’s true.  I know this.  I’ll take the mickey out of myself.   But maybe I shouldn’t. Is it ok to mock the girl who openly admits she needs help?

It's not all doom and gloom though.  I’ve had a big shock recently with all the support I’m receiving.  It’s so overwhelming!  I am extremely grateful.  This weekend just gone I had a couple of people asking me how I am, and telling me they’re worried about me.  This is so lovely.  And good.   I think I came off as being annoyed though, and I am not at all.  I didn’t know how to respond.  I’m just not used to having this kind of support or people asking.  So thank you.  You know who you are. Thank you.  You have no idea how much I appreciate your kindness.  So much I’m already crying thinking about it!

People ask about this blog and why I’m writing it or if it’s helping and I’d say yes.  It is.  It’s like I’m letting it all out. I’m talking to myself, but I’m talking to you all also.  It also helps when I talk about the future…what I’m going to be up to.  If I talk about it, it means I’m planning, and hopefully the bad thoughts I have will subside.

The blog is also helping others.  Which is wonderful.  I’ve had so many messages from people – family, friends and strangers – who have found inspiration in my running, the fundraising for Addaction or my honesty about my depression, my anxiety.  If this helps just one person to talk.  To ask for help.  If it helps raise awareness to ask that person if they are ok.  Then it’s doing something I didn’t expect, but am amazed that it is. 

There are many people who are not ok.  People I know who are not ok.  It’s ok to not be ok.  Don’t be ashamed.  You don’t have to be strong all the time.  You don’t have to want to get out of bed.  I struggle.  Every morning.   Today in particular. Still in bed as I write this sentence. It's 08:22. I'm going to be late.

I should hopefully steady myself with the medication again.  I will attempt a run this week.  Not far.  My training plan for next year originally had me at 13 miles by mid January, but I think I’ll get myself to 10/11 miles and do those for a couple of weeks.  I have entered the Watford Half Marathon at the end of January so I can start building the distance from there ready for MK in May. (See, planning). 

I’m also hopefully alcohol free this weekend.  It’s the club’s Christmas do, but I don’t want to go silly.  I’d rather be awake on Sunday.   And if I’m not drinking, I won’t be so low.  Hopefully.   Let’s see.

I don’t know what this post is supposed to be about.  The post marathon blues. The struggle.

I should probably get up and go to work.