In an effort to post a little bit more frequently to this blog, I thought I’d start trying to do a weekly recap post where I talk a little bit about what I’ve been up to in the preceding week. I’ll mainly talk about running and related things, but I hope to be able to include some other life stuff and general chat too.
This past week has been a rather busy one! At the beginning of the week I was in charge of my group’s annual conference (which has been my baby for the last 8 months or so) and it was a bit of a whirlwind of introducing guest speakers, dealing with technology and preparing for my own presentation on the Tuesday morning. Happily I think everything went well, and most of the attendees enjoyed themselves. I’ve enjoyed being at the helm of the meeting for the last 2 years but I’m going to be glad to pass the baton to someone else and just be an attendee myself next time!
I managed to get out for a run on Thursday morning, and for some reason I decided to do some hill repeats (my first ever, in fact) of a nearby hill that I knew was about a quarter of a mile in length. I jogged the mile to the top of the hill and charged down, enjoying myself immensely (I love running downhill!) and then turned and with a determined, if naive, attitude and back up I went. I had arbitrarily decided that 6 repeats was my magic number but on the first climb I realised two things – 1) that the hill was a lot steeper that I had remembered and 2) that quarter of a mile is quite far when you’re not used to running uphill!
3 hill repeats and a mile’s cooldown later I started my workday with a funky elevation profile for my Strava feed and a general sense of accomplishment! I don’t often make it out for early morning runs, but I really must try harder – it feels so good afterwards!
Saturday marked our tenth Parkrun, and honestly I was more than a little bit nervous. We’d heard that it would use the narrower and less spacious winter route for the first time this year, and after my panic attack a few weeks ago I was worried that I wouldn’t cope well with the crowds. The first (of five) laps of the lake was extremely crowded, so much so that I couldn’t get into my stride, but Matt stayed close to me and tried to block anyone from coming up my right-hand-side so that I wouldn’t feel boxed in and panic. But after that I felt okay and we were able to run more naturally and started to enjoy ourselves as the field spread out. We rarely overtake on the longer laps of the summer course, but this time we picked off people left, right and centre! One of the course bottlenecks is a narrow bridge with a couple of bollards in the middle, followed by a sharp (and muddy) right hand turn. On one of the laps I got completely stuck behind some folks on the bridge and could sense one of the faster runners trying to come past me as well, but managed to bypass the rising panic, do a weird pause-step-sideways shuffle and tuck my elbows in, and avoid everyone! Matt told me later he was on high alert when he saw me get boxed in and was proud that I sorted my self out! I’m definitely counting it as a win.
Sunday was a weird day. I’d realised on Saturday that I’d left my medication at home in Didcot, and even though I knew that within 24 hours I’d start to feel really pretty awful as it left my system, I was terrified that speaking up would “spoil” the weekend, so I said nothing. By Sunday morning I was feeling quite unwell, but I was determined to try and push through (I know, I know, so silly!) but by the time we came back from our traditional Sunday carvery I couldn’t hang on any longer. I was dizzy, nauseated and unable to focus. How could I possibly expect to drive myself home the following day feeling like this, or worse?
So, with what would probably have looked like overacting even on the set of Eastenders, I said to Matt that I had something to tell him and confessed to my crime. There were many tears, and you’ve probably never heard the word “sorry” uttered so often or so passionately as it was in those 10 minutes.
See, part of me believes that mistakes that would be eminently forgiveable and worthy of compassion in others are, when made by me, horrendous transgressions that Ruin Everything Forever and Ever and are evidence of me being a No Good, Terrible, Bad person.
Luckily, Matt doesn’t subscribe to the rules of the mean part of my brain, and so he simply saw a problem which was easily solved. I was loaded into the car with a blanket and a pillow and off we went to fetch the much needed tablets. It was a pleasantly sunny afternoon and the roads were clear, so it was an easy round trip, and by the time we were back in Cheltenham I was starting to feel better. The day ended cosily with chicken and mashed potato, David Attenborough on the telly and a sofa piled high with blankets. As I mulled over the events of the afternoon I felt intensely grateful that Matt was there to be nice to me when I couldn’t be nice to myself. I guess events like this are part of the ill-defined and probably indefinite process of recovery, but it’s comforting to know that I do now have the self awareness to recognise (albeit slightly belatedly) my faulty beliefs for what they are.
I hope this was an enjoyable read! Stay tuned for another edition next Monday (hopefully).
running from the weasels 