Running away stress

I’m feeling broken. After every race. Which is worrying as 1. I’m not ready to give up on my goals, and 2. I’m only 45…I figure many issues are only going to get worse. My body no longer behaves like a 23-year-old’s body. My mind and it are starting to become strangers. Most of the time I hope everything will go OK at races, rather than knowing the training is in the bag.

I think I am going on to the next phase. I never knew there was one, as the first one was being young and not giving a f*ck about any phases as everything could be conquered, visited, finished, done. The second one started when I had children – life became about them, not me.

The wet bit

The wet bit

In this new one, there’s a new me (not that I asked for one) and a whole lot of issues that I would never have thought would have been part of my life 20 years ago. I’m living in someone else’s body. Don’t really know if I like her.

Lying down on the beach in the winter is very therapeutic

Lying down on the beach in the winter for a nap is very therapeutic

Then there’s the germ merry-go-round in our house. Is it the germs that have slowed me down? Something else?

I’ve been getting more and more frantic and stressed, and more and more burnt-out. Being pulled in so many different directions. Perspective. Lost. Awful aches across my back, so tired, really stressed and in the background consumed by a kaleidoscope of worries. Being the provider for my three children. My accountant keeps asking me to do my accounts. Every time he does I start crying!

There’s no point worrying about everything but you do anyway. Worry has become alive, inside my head. Laying down to do 30 minutes’ mediation doesn’t take it away. A glass of wine – doesn’t work. Going for a run…I have no energy for it.

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I put on my running bra when I got dressed knowing it was a little movement in the right direction. I was determined to get out today even though I felt terrible. My body language must have looked strange as I hit the track around the field behind my house. Even the air, as I squelched around the field, felt heavy – almost menacing. Do I have to battle against even the air? I kept my head down. Just go slow. The field became a road. A footpath. Legs were heavy, shoulders hunched, I shouldn’t have worn my Garmin – was I really going twice as slow as two weeks ago? Stop looking at the Garmin, stop torturing yourself. I knew I didn’t have a long run in me, I just wanted to get to the beach and the shingle. It’s so hard to get there.

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Closer. It’s crunching under my feet and I feel OK, calmer. I’m going to do two miles along the shingle. What? the voice in my head said. Sshh. I’m going to do two miles slow. I have to. Bloody minded stubborn head. 13-min miling, even on the shingle. Slow. This is my place. I run along that bit of beach and feel so lifted. First mile out and the little wading birds were jumping along the water line. The tide is really high which makes the ridge where I run harder. There’s a tree in the way; when the tide is high you have to get your feet wet. The water sloshes in my trainers, I don’t mind. My toes feel alive. The end of a mile and I turn back and it’s starting to happen. The voice inside my head that goes over and over the stresses, the worries, is starting to quieten. I’m going to pound it out. I’m dragging myself along but knowing I have to do this, to let go. Look down…the stones slip away. My worries slip away too. The massive tension, the 20 bricks I am carrying, in my shoulders, is melting away and even though I feel so tired I feel amazing too. My dad is running beside me. Thinking about him makes my throat feel weak. For a while he’s there saying… shoulders back and down, chin in, just relax. RELAX. OK, I WILL! Why haven’t I done this for so long? Why have I let the worries and stresses take over and become me, inside my head?

When the weather reflects your mood

When the weather reflects your mood

Two miles and I jump back onto the coast road and it’s like it’s made of thick, syrupy pancakes. Twitchers are listing today’s birds. The swans in the small harbour aren’t interested, I haven’t got any food today. So hot; the sweat soaks through the layers until I am squelching in my own clothes.

Love running in my ON Cloudsurfers

Love running in my ON Cloudsurfers

The last mile back, I make contact with a seven-minute mile. It’s temporary. Everything you fear is lost isn’t really, it just isn’t there right now.

The huge weight isn’t off your shoulders; there are more worries to face, but that place I go to changes me every time I run there. It takes so much from me, the worries melt through me into the stones, and it gives far too much back. For this I pay no price. I will need to go back; my head will take back control. I will need to march myself along the shore-line to banish the demons. Hopefully not too soon. Hopefully a tr-million heartbeats before I have to melt into the shingle.

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Every minute that takes me further away from my run I’m feeling more positive. The endorphins are doing their job; my mind is a symphony of neural transmitters creating their own masterpiece. An invisible chemical filter that makes the worries unimportant.

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I am so grateful for going for a run today.