Date: Friday, September 7, 2018
Distance: 7.17 miles/11.55 km
Listened to: Canada DriveTime playlist (soft rock classics like Extreme, Bon Jovi, Heart…you get the gist!) from a holiday last year
The last few days have been a little tough in the wake of my Dad’s death. After a wobbly first week, I seemed to benefit from getting back into a routine amid the support, food, wine and flowers of my family and friends. As the funeral approaches and with my youngest daughter starting secondary school, I have definitely had a set-back. Too many life events all in one go.
My way of coping has been to keep busy. I have never been a dweller. This blog, the runs that inspire it, work, ironing, pie-making, etc….have all been a part of my survival. I realised I just could not keep still. I was avoiding thinking about Dad. I was not comfortable with just letting my feelings do their thing. This, in turn, made me sad. So not only was I sad; I was sad about being sad!
As I headed out for my run this morning, these emotions led me to feel ‘the fear’. I had not felt this way about running for a while. I have felt this fear on multiple occasions: before the first run I did outside this year, before the first run I did with friends, and before my first ever 10k event in Bristol
My lovely, learned husband had advised me to embrace the Bristol 10k as a challenge, to look forward to it, to be excited by it even, so I released lots of positive endorphins around my body to help me run better. I could not have been further away from positive if I tried. I woke up early to a bright blue sky and a blazing sun. Cue first panic. It was going to be too hot. Then I visited the toilet multiple times. At the start line, I tried to soak up the atmosphere and take a load of smiley selfies, but in truth I was lonely and terrified. My family were about 200 metres from the start, which gave me encouragement, but as soon as I left them behind, my legs turned to lead. They just would not do what I wanted them to. I felt robbed as I had done all the sensible things my physio husband told me to do pre race: light run early in the week, rest in the days beforehand, plenty of pasta the night before, no booze and three poos! All that hard work and preparation, and I was still struggling. On reflection, the heat and starting off too fast played a part, but I also paralysed myself with panic.
When I did the Kingsbridge 10k, ‘the fear’ only reared its head for a nano-second. Being in my locality among friends and cheered on by my family and more friends was the soothing salve I needed. My friend Rachel (and crazily amazing runner) greeted me at the start with a hug (and four safety pins) and other fab runner friends George, Ross, Simon, Ben and others were all really encouraging too. I did not feel lonely at all. I felt part of something. That was until everyone hared up the uphill high street at the start of the race. I had a brief pang of fear at that point but had a word with myself and kept on going at my pace. I made the distance and was really chuffed.
At the end of this rather disconcerting week, the fear returned again this morning. Who did I think I was going for my third run in seven days? Did I really think I could do this?Surely, the wheels would come off. And it wasn’t going to bring my Dad back anytime soon. Indeed, when I started off from my house, the legs were a little bit leaden. The positive endorphins were in hiding. The real test though would be a hill I had managed to run up for the first time last Saturday. Would the fear and my grief cripple my efforts and ruin my tentative new-found confidence? I eyed it with distrust as it grew closer and just let my legs give it a go. I did it. I also ran more of the infamous Cattery Hill or Crappery Hill according to my friend Viv, (see below – the hill, not Viv) than I had ever run before. The fear was not winning. I certainly wasn’t experiencing the so-called runner’s high but I wasn’t being beaten by my own emotions.
The reason for this blog is to keep me running to honour my Dad and to create something positive from a frankly rubbish situation. With this in mind, I ran past the road that leads up to my house at the end of this loop to add on a few more metres and minutes. I ended up running 7 miles…further than I have run before. I have also run more miles this week than in any other week in my life, which means I have knocked off 19 miles of my 50-mile September challenge. I am sure the fear will come a-calling more than once in a while, but today I beat it and feel better for it.
Thank you for reading.
#slowchick #slowrunningisbetterthannorunning #itsoktowalk #runningfordad #fightthefear
Running for Dad 