Nel jumped on the bed just before 6am. Her body clock knows when it’s time to get Tom up and out for a run and she’s never late on the job. I can see her silhouette in the dark, her tail is a dancing shadow. I murmur something to Tom about the darker mornings closing […]
Fear is an intense word. When we consider fear, we can probably imagine an infinite number of scenarios to accurately place ourselves in its shoes from a range of life experiences: near-death expectancy, or perhaps simply being terrified of being hurt, ashamed, rejected. In some way, fear amounts to an expectation of something negative resulting from a specific situation. We’ve perhaps all been there: afraid to ask someone out on a date, afraid to speak up in class, afraid to try something new, afraid to be seen doing something different, perhaps all on the lower end of the fear factor scale. Avoiding such cases is a weave of daily habits, responses, conversations, decisions.
Since competing on the international triathlon stage a decade ago, I’ve been immersed in the world of whole nutrition vs convenience and processed, but have also fallen foul of supplements to support my training. I quickly—when I say quickly, I mean about five years’ of wondering why I would have to stop mid-race, or would suffer excruciating pain the night before a race which prevented sleep—discovered that my stomach does not take kindly to gluten, to certain high-profile companies’ products, to a high carb diet, lots of dairy, or to lots of sugar. And I have not always been able to solely rely on solid food, because post-races I can barely eat a morsel, so my immediate recovery has to be liquid.