Pushing through

8 weeks today sounds like a great deal of time to accomplish many things; it also feels like no time at all.

The past 3 weeks feel wasted having had to deal with ‘stuff’: tummy upset, nausea, headaches, stress, mania, hypomania, irritability, fatigue, roller coaster emotions, insomnia, runner’s knee, children’s infirmary visits, broken phone, kaput GPS.

Clearly a whole host of distractions when I needed to be in the zone, upping my game, achieving new mileage, putting my stake in the ground.

I’m annoyed with myself because I haven’t managed to get my emotions, head & training back on track yet, and time is passing by. I am wasting energy getting annoyed, but I’m also learning.

I’m learning how to pull myself out of a tizz. This is the sort of treatment that I need – how to manage the ‘stuff’ to minimise self-destruct mode, which would normally become the option.

Learning to be easier on myself is completely unnatural to my being. I am my worst enemy because I know I can always do better, and I know my body can do more. I started my recovery within the NHS Mental Health programme but had to press the eject button once their therapy plans began to stifle my needs. Unfortunately, that elusive psychologist referral was promptly tossed in the bin. So I am trying to figure this out for myself. And I’m not finding it easy.

Running is doing me a great deal of good. The recent BBC video of Simon Lamb‘s thoughts spoke just what I needed to remind myself; running is saving my life. Struggling the past 3 weeks has been a nightmare that is sapping my energy, rearing many demons and unleashing an irritability that I had hoped I’d vanquished. Clearly not.

I must fix this. I must push through the nausea, the headaches, the fatigue, the irritability, the fear, the anxiety and the self-doubt.

I must turn to my support and regenerate.  I don’t know how that will manifest exactly, but I must.

Belief in this journey is going to be crucial.

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