Sometimes running does not work 

Saturday 15th February 2020 (6.33pm)

I should be doing something else but binned that off as kind of feel that I want to write this. That is what writing / blogging is about (for me). It has to be in the head and ready to pop out, otherwise it is forced and does not happen.

This past week has been difficult, a 90 minute psychiatrist appointment on Tuesday, not only examined my current wellbeing but will also have a potentially significant bearing on what happens in my immediate future. This took its toll on me and left me with a bumping brain for 24 hours. I am not able to disclose what went on here for medical and professional reasons but super grateful for those who are aware and have stood by me this week. I am seeing my therapist on Monday, and after the last session where I was emotionally unable to put more than 5 words together I am hoping it will be better. I have other shit and emotions going on which I am doing my best to deal with but failing at. 

My running has had to take a back step due to a malfunctioning knee and getting over illness. For the first time in what feels like ever I did nothing for 6 days. For someone who relies on this mentally, it is no wonder that I have been on breakdown mode. After seeing my knee surgeon last week, it appears that one of my previous grafts or my rebuild has ‘gone’ which is causing my knee to slip off track and out of alignment.  Advice, don’t run. Unfortunately this is not an option for my head. Ironically, my knee does not slip out when I run but I am limited to a certain number of miles before it starts to give me grief. I am awaiting an MRI scan prior to operation #12. I have had to withdraw from a number of events but will carry on with the swimming and cycling (hopefully).

I must give a big shout out to my Saturday morning run crew (as pictured below) who are providing me with some ‘normal time’, laughs and company at the moment. These along with many others who are missing from the picture today are training for an ultra marathon so Saturday morning is long run day. In previous weeks we have been caked in mud, sh*t, fallen on our butts, ran into bollards, laughed together, sworn together then shared breakfast together. Today, we decided to take on storm Dennis, and to avoid the worst of the wind and rain met at 0730. Anyone who knows me will appreciate that I do not run in the rain; however, this was a mission that I knew I had to go on. My head wobbled yesterday (as does most days), knee had been rested, and had I not gone, I would have sat and thought about stuff, worked myself up into more of a mess and regretted missing the run. I knew I needed to go and be around people, even if it was to run 13 miles. I have had to pull out of the ultra but the run group has become a big help to me. They probably have no idea of this.


Sometimes a run does not clear my head. Sometimes I get too consumed with the mass of wires in my brain which do not connect to form rational sense, but instead fire off in all directions overwhelming me with emotion which I cannot control. Cue today, managing to keep it in check until about 2 miles from the end where I had to stop, let it go, get my sh*t together and carry on. No point in beating around the bush, every step of my 12.2 miles was mental hell. I was somewhere else, away with other thoughts, battling the demons which took the joy out of my run.

I was glad to finish. I was glad to stop.

Today, Dennis didn’t beat me. I did x

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