Where next?

Suddenly its June? Where did that come from? This means I have Race to the King in just two weeks. Things haven't really gone to plan. Yes, I've run more this year already than last year but that wouldn’t be hard. I had hoped to get up to 30 miles but my longest run is just 20. Lots of people tell me I know I can do it. After all I’m not new to ultras or this kind of distance. But my last long distance race was in 2019. I’ve done a virtual marathon. I’ve done a couple of real and virtual halfs. I last ran 26.2 miles over 8 months ago. 

Worse still I’ve lost myself to anxiety and the wild noises in my mind that have crashed through after 3 lockdowns, a literal creation of my own bubble and the lack of desire to see anyone or do anything. The dark grey fog has settled around me and i can glimpse patches of light but I have no understanding of how to reach them. 

Picture credit: @sow_ay 

The races I’m doing this year were meant to be over - I deferred them in 2019 due to my breakdown but 2020 destroyed the opportunity to complete them when I was feeling more in control. Now I’m not the same as 2019 but will the impact of pushing myself beyond what I’m probably physically (and maybe mentally) capable of be worth it? 

I guess I’m going to find out. It’s made me question my future in terms of events. I don’t see me entering much else. I want to reach 10 Royal Parks and then perhaps I’ll just stick to my own steam. Currently I’m back on the trails alone. It’s too complicated to Jeff with others and my self induced bubble feels a safe place. The few times I venture out to run with others I’m crippled with anxiety. I probably need to break this but I don’t quite know how. Trusting in others is bottom of my list right now and my pace is that of a slightly fast walker. Although people say they don’t care about such things - many do. And that’s their right. But my running is not in the space I once held so alone is where I suspect I’ll find myself. 

That said I do wish everyone would stop justifying their times or if they run/walk. I love Jeff Galloway. He’s changed my ability to keep going even through all this. And it’s still running. It’s my running. It may not be your running but that’s okay. We are not all the same person. I’m one of the worst to try and “accept” where i now find myself but the constant comparison on social media or even worse running apps isn’t good for us. My fitness is judged by these apps on times I got in 2015 and 2017. 4 years ago! If only I had the courage to completely delete them but there’s the rub. I don’t. But I still run. My way. 

We’ll see what 2021 brings but I can’t risk fracturing my fragile state completely for the sake of a medal. I’m not afraid of a DNF anymore. I will start. I will try. But I won’t lose it all by betting on black. Just someone remind me of that at 3am on 20 June when I’m still struggling to finish...

Learning to Accept

Second blog of the year, that's already a plus! What a year it has been too. This 3rd Lockdown has been tough, maybe because it's winter, dark and cold. Maybe because we've now been here before and can't be sure is this really the final time we'll need to do this. Whatever it is the world has been feeling it. You can't move for podcasts or articles about how to survive, how to help yourself stay sane, how to all be a little bit kinder. 

We can read the words, we can even advise other people but can we - can I - listen and take it on board? The jury is very much out on that one. I started the year with all good intentions. But we've learned the coronacoaster doesn't work that way. A few days or weeks of consistency should be celebrated, even a few hours of just feeling good. As at any moment it can all come crashing down and you won't even know why. Just because. Just because the world has gone to shit and as humans we aren't that great at dealing with shit on a sustained level. 

My good intentions to be running deserted me in January and Feb. But then Royal Parks Half became a virtual race and I knew that I wanted to still compete, keeping my string of RPH races going and raising some money for Mind. Which meant i needed a plan. So at the end of Feb, after the snow had left us I started to run regularly again. For about 2 weeks. Then I stopped. Then I started. Then....see where I'm going with this? In the end ANY running is okay. 

I thought it would be great to complete Royal Parks in under 3 hours. After all my PB is 1:58 so surely I can run a 3 hour half, well turns out maybe not so much. Also turns out that pressure isn't good for me. I can hear lots of you yelling "NO, we know that!" but you could have told me. I will try and do the best run I can on 11 April, but I've no idea what that will be. I have managed to train. I've done 3 10 milers in the last few weeks, including one the day after my first vaccine which nearly killed me as i had zero energy for a 10 mile run. I think I've got a flat route, as frankly I don't want to run up hills. And I'm just going to enjoy myself. 

Life in general is tough. Did I mention that already? My mental health is struggling and however hard I try and cling to a routine it doesn't stick and I just feel bad. At the moment it's hanging on with your fingertips to what works and just hoping you'll get through. Yesterday I decided to do my 10 miler up on the North Downs, it's beautiful up there but also you can't run those steps and hills. No pressure. Just go there and enjoy. With the wind as it was it blew away the cobwebs and helped me get some perspective. 

I've long known I've got all sorts of disordered eating and body dysmorphia but as I climbed the hills I remembered what this body has given me. What I've achieved. Holding on to an unreal image in my head of what I 'should' be in terms of weight instead of just accepting who I am. Where I am and what I can still do. Things that others would never dream of. I mean my races this year are 53 miles and 100km. Who am I kidding that I'm somehow less than....

At least that's this week. Trying to move to a position of acceptance. Of kindness and less criticism. Of running without pressure. In the now. As who knows with the rollercoaster we're all on when the ride will stop next. 

Where to begin....

Over the years this blog has been as much about my mental health as it has about my running. I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about what to write about next, how to explain these strange times we live in. How to reflect where I am in my running journey, but also my mental health and just life in general. Face it we live in curious curious times. How many of us would have imagined we would become so much part of history. A global pandemic that has impacted the very fabric of our society but also us as individuals - we cannot and should not underestimate the times we live in. Then a global movement also began to rise out of the existing disruption. Black Lives Matter has become something none of us can ignore. It has challenged us almost as much as Covid-19 and it has the ability to divide us almost as much as lockdown, if we let it. 

I’ve kept a diary all throughout lockdown. Just daily notes of key things that have happened and some of my experiences. I plan on writing them up but that is not for this blog. Part of me also realised it was time to start writing my wider journey. Perhaps finally try and put pen to paper or fingers to keys to put down my story. Lockdown lethargy has meant I’ve done neither but I also now know how much discipline I need to give myself to achieve these goals. But again that is not for this blog. 

Back in March, when I last wrote we had little idea what lay ahead. We had all read about Italy and Spain. We all knew we were shifting in to a new reality. We talked of what would become the new normal. There is no new normal. There is just now. We told each other to be kind. To give ourselves space and time. We started to work from home. Or as I now like to think of it ‘live at work’. Small comforts became big comforts - our favourite restaurants still on deliveroo. A walk in the park (only one a day). Netflix releasing new programmes. The amazon delivery man keeping to his 24 hour promise. Learning that Gino was the name of my DPD driver. 

My blog at the start of lockdown dipped into our changes in human behaviour. How judgemental we all became. How watching others instead of ourselves became the new national past time. For some lockdown was a chance to finally release the need to be what others wanted them to be, but they couldn’t. Introverts excelled. Extroverts folded. Families who got on found that they missed each other and the distance was unbearable. Those who don’t need company blissfully watched days pass with no one. Loneliness became intolerable. The thought of seeing people again became unimaginable. We discovered we are individuals. No right way, or wrong way, to go through a collective experience of such magnitude our brains struggle (even now) to comprehend what we’ve lived through. 

Then the realities hit. The daily deaths rise. People you know die, people we knew died. Not necessarily Covid, but in these weird and strange times death becomes something even more other. A surreal, isolating experience. It’s hard to maintain any sense of self. Any sense of holding on to what you know. I tried to run. Honestly. I managed two runs during April - one of them nearly 10 miles. Then a smattering of 5ks in May. I reached June having run a total of 66 miles for the year. It was nearly the anniversary of my Race to the Tower where I did 53 in one go! 

During Lockdown I tried my hardest to live well. Our social media image showed deliveries, wine, takeaways. Those small comforts which hid a reality of long work hours. Stress. Fear. Anxiety. Isolation. I felt myself slipping in to old habits. My resilience failing. I started binge listening to blogs, books, Brene Brown, Glennon Doyle. Anything that would help me through. I found an online therapy site (Better Help) and signed up with a coronavirus discount. I found that solitude could bring rest and recuperation. No pressure to do things. No more shoulds. The coronacoaster ride had its ups and its downs. By the end of May i felt powerful. I used the term Lockdown Liberation. I found inspiring words and quotes. I found that doing things differently brings you different results. I found Enneagrams. I found a place for me. 

With the lifting of social restrictions I even found running with people back on the agenda. 5k and super slow. But it was company. Hard as I find seeing people ‘putting myself in the path of good’ is something I have to strive for. However uncomfortable it makes me, that connection you get from others is what keeps us alive. 

But then the world started to burn. Rightly so. Justly so. A new reality dawned for me. My white privilege. My inability to understand that the opposite of racist isn’t ‘not racist’ but anti-racist. Uncomfortable questions. Difficult answers. Friend against friend. Family against family. Fear and the belief this questioning made you wrong. Made you defensive. Made you embarrassed. But actually, doing difficult things, learning to ask difficult questions, opening yourself up to consider new points of view just makes you grow. As runners we know that reaching hard goals isn’t easy. You go through pain. You have to push yourself out of your comfort zone. But it’s worth it in the end. So why shouldn’t it be the same for life. It isn’t asking us as individuals to apologise and feel shame. It’s just asking us to be vulnerable. To open ourselves up to new possibilities and ask the hard questions and listen. We’ve not been listening. I’ve not been listening. And it hurt. But it didn’t put my life in danger. It didn’t impact my ability to find work. It didn’t tell me I was worth less than someone else. But wait, yes it did. When I was young and realising I was gay all of those things stood in my way. I had no legal protection. I had no understanding from society. I had individuals who stood with me, told me it was okay. Told me they would help fight for my rights. So why now would I turn in any other direction than into that head wind?

It’s fucking hard. Let it burn. Let’s not be afraid of things that are ‘other’ to us. Let us just listen. On all sides. But no side trumps the other. No side is trying to trump the other. I promise. Do not fall in to the trap of thinking this is about supremacy or power. It is not. It is about equality. It is about policy and making change. Tolerance. Acceptance are all great. But they are not equality. We cannot educate others until we educate ourselves. 

And now where am I? Where are we? I thought in June it was all falling apart again but I’ve learned it’s an almighty wave, I will always find myself sinking, going under, panic rising inside as I struggle to break the surface. But I will also always make it up above the wave and back to the beach. And because I can, because I want to, I will take myself back out in to sea and go through it all again. Some times I’ll swim back to shore with no issues and then other days I’ll sink again. Or perhaps it will be raining and I’ll pack my bags and just go home instead of venturing into the sea. All of that is okay. 

Last sunday I packed my bag and headed off for a run. I’d heard from Lucy about the Kentish Loch - Langley Loch. This I had to see for myself so i set off on an adventure. Run/walking - feeling the fact I hadn’t really run anywhere in a month. But I found it and I found the thrill of a trail run where you don’t really know where you are or where you should be going. I planned to loop briefly onto the Greensand way to visit the goats at Buttercups and head home. But I got to the Greensand way at about 5 or 6 miles and just knew I wanted to go further. So I did. I ended up on a 13 mile route. Perhaps I could have even gone further. No training. No foresight. Just me, taking my time. No pressure. No judging myself or walking or stopping. Enjoying the views. Enjoying being out. Enjoying the feeling of not knowing if I would continue or stop. Liberation. Lockdown Liberation. Who knew? And who knows where it will take me next but, in that, I’m no longer afraid. 

Lockdown Lowdown

Well, this finds us all in a strange place doesn’t it? Lockdown. The world overwhelmed with a virus that we don’t fully understand, other than it spreads quickly, it kills many and it has resulted in a change to our reality that we probably still don’t fully comprehend. We can try and jump into a new reality or we can stop for a moment and allow ourselves to catch up. I know for one that I need to catch up. My mind is exploding and the reality I had found myself in has been replaced, not necessarily with something worse but with something so different if I don’t stop for a moment, well who knows?

Up to 2 weeks ago things were pretty normal. Back working, in something I was very much enjoying. Running again - including managing a half marathon in under 3 hours with no training. Even involved in parkrun again each weekend. 

And now? Now we’re allowed out for one piece of exercise a day - running, walking or on your bike. No more. At the moment allowed to go for as long as we need, although asked to be sensible and stay close to home. If we abuse it or if things get worse this will be taken away. It’s great people are now exercising regularly. We feel if we don’t take it we’ve somehow missed out and it’s a way of keeping us sane. If we used to swim, or spin then this is all we have. I never used to exercise every day, other than my walk to the station and home again. I had just started to run again regularly but now I’m using my once a day to go out with Keeley, my wife. We’ve all become attached to our one exercise a day, quite rightly as it’s all we have and if you think you’re going to lose something you hold on to what you’ve got. 

And in that is how we keep ourselves together. We need to hold on to what we’ve got. Our humanity. Our compassion. Our kindness. Before all this happened I’d finished reading Rising Strong by Brene Brown. Her focus on vulnerability, shame and daring greatly is just what we need right now. We are face down in the arena and this is where we need to pick ourselves up and face where we are, without falling into traps of nostalgia for a past that’s gone but also through the fundamental belief that everyone around us is doing the best they can. We are far from perfect. Each of us. We may not like everyone around us. How could we? Why should we? But we can believe that even those we think are arseholes are just doing the best they can, with the set of circumstances they’ve been given. 

I’ve made mistakes this week. I’ve been judgemental. Misunderstood. Angry. Sad. Falling into the rabbit warren of social media - like White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland “I’m late, I’m late” - late to understanding what matters, what’s important and what we need to hold on to. But I’m here now. I’m settling into to a new routine, making sure I give myself time and do what I need within the boundaries we’ve been set. And I know people think those boundaries don’t go far enough and I think likely they’ll get tighter, but we cannot judge others for following the new rules. We need to look at ourselves and our own behaviour. Trust others to look at theirs. Mud slinging. Personal politics. This isn’t the time for that. 

We can get through this, today on our walk we stood 2 metres way from Sally and had a lovely chat. We talked about trauma, the need to reflect, feel, and not close down or just move on - this is about processing. If we do that and support those around us through they’re own steps we can get through. If we judge and question and spend the next 6 weeks on social media, well we will get through but we’ll go insane.

 In the same way I’ve given up strava and comparing myself to people when I run, this is a time to stick to our own swim-lane. We can support the other swimmers in the pool, cheer when they finish and offer them encouragement but we don’t need to compare. We just need to be. That’s what will get us through, let’s just be....