I haven’t written anything in a while. Like blog posts, race reports, anything. I don’t even post on Facebook anymore. Partly because I’ve been struggling to get the words to come out of my head in any type of seniscle (I know that’s not a word but it should be) order and also because I’m kind of a bit bored listening to myself. Others must be very bored because vanity accounts for the like 20% interest I do have. The thing is though, I’ve missed having this outlet and so today I’m going to write because I can (I’m pretty sure no one will read this anyways cos I don’t use facebook anymore in order to share it).
I’ve been doing this thing this year where I’m trying to race 1000 miles for MS. It was a crazy idea (I still can’t believe no one tried to talk me out of it) and it’s pretty much taken over my life a bit (as well as the husband’s). I’ve had three weekends so far this year where i haven’t raced and two of them were only cos I was on a cruise ship and there are no races in the ocean (I’m considering emailing Royal Caribbean and suggesting an onboard parkrun). A few months ago I realised that I was way ahead and figured out that if I did a little juggling I could finish the 1000 miles in my home town at English Half Marathon. It’s just over a week away and I’m still on track.
Yesterday my husband told me I was too ill to go to a race (To be fair to him, I hadn’t been able to talk all day and he’d just seen me sliding along the kitchen floor backwards on my bottom because I couldn’t get up and walk and i was meant to be getting a train 20 minutes later). I of course completely lost all perspective and sat and cried because i felt like a failure. EHM was slipping away. Anyways, in the end he drove me there (mostly so he wouldn’t have to listen to me anymore I think). When I get ill I have to run with a pattern in my head (which a cowbell threatened to destroy several times), either a series of noises or a phrase or part of a song over and over. It’s why I sometimes make strange noises if you’ve heard me running past you. I then have to focus on nothing but running. I have no control over pace and can’t speed up or slow down. If I stop I’m pretty sure I won’t start again cos as soon as i stop fighting to keep the level of concentration my brain explodes. I can’t look anywhere but straight ahead and if I can’t see a horizon I go dizzy and don’t know what is up or down anymore and I can’t focus my eyes so my sight is all funny. Looking down at my feet is a big issue for me when I’m ill as it makes me go dizzy too, which is why I mostly run on roads and love track. Thurstaston today and Thurstaston on the Tour in July were two very different races for me because for the first one I was fine and loved every second whereas the later happened to be a badish day (nowhere near as bad as the day before though). I walked the entire beach because I needed to be able to look at my feet which were sliding everywhere in the dry dry sand.
Before Derek gets out his tiny violin (which i threatened to smash during seaside 24), I’m not any worse than anyone else. Everyone has their own stories and issues, I just wanted to explain what it’s like to run when I’m not well. I’m actually starting to get used to running ill a little because I’ve done it quite a few times this year now but it’s so tiring to keep fighting all the time that sometimes I cave, give in and just sit on my chair watching TV (I’m almost at season 6 of Gilmore Girls) until it passes. To be honest, after English Half I’ll probably stop fighting so much for a little while. Next year there’s very few races on the list, but at least when I’m sat on my chair I can think of how I raced 1000 miles in less than 9 months. If I can get through Arrowe Park on a very bad day and Thurstaston on a bad day there’s no way I can not finish this now. Just over a week to go 🙂