Friday 23 July 2021

Shouting into the void

 You're out there somewhere but I doubt you will see this.

I miss you with every fibre of my being.

A cry that comes from the heart.

A cry lost in the void.

I miss you.


Saturday 10 July 2021

RIP Doyle

 There are no words.

I went to see the hens this morning. Willow and Princess were sounding mournful, but they often do when they want attention.

Doyle wasn't there though, which was odd. I looked up and saw her lying at the back of the coop. It looks as though she had died quite peacefully in her sleep.

We loved you so much, Doyle. Your short life brought great joy to us and we are so grateful for the time we had with you.



Monday 5 July 2021

Some thoughts on love, life and failure

 

Still plodding

I don't know how I learned it, but somehow I learned to love people for who they are. Not for who I want them to be, nor for what they give me. I learned to love someone with, not in spite of, all the things that makes them inexplicable, frustrating, difficult, weird, annoying. 

 In childhood I was only good enough, loveable enough, if I achieved things. The more or the higher I achieved, the more worthwhile I was. If I did something wrong that made me a bad person and bad people aren't loved.

But I didn't start running to achieve things and it's not why I started running ultras either. Neither is it why I decided to run 100 miles. I ran out of curiosity- could I do it? what would it be like? how would it feel? what would I see? OK, there was some desire to get fit and then stay fit as I do fear the thought of getting old and frail, unable to reach things off high shelves, struggle to get out of a chair and be unable to look after myself. But I have never done a race because I wanted people to notice and be amazed. 

Not doing any races, not even running 20 miles a week is a strange place to be in. I don't think running has ever defined me, but it is so easy to feel inadequate and a failure if I compare myself to others. No run-every-day-streaks, no huge high-profile races to boost my ego. No runs in amazing, scenic places. In some people's eyes I'm a failure: no money, no security, no house, no prospects, no ambition, no desire to be extraordinary. I'm unloveable. 

But 12 years ago I got divorced and had nothing; 5 years ago I broke my back and struggled to dress myself each morning; right now I have a family full of illnesses and difficulties and we face the prospect of eviction with nowhere to go. I have no hopes and nothing to look forward to, but somehow I get up each morning and plod.

The daily grind of my life is very ordinary indeed, but the fact that I'm still here at all is perhaps the most extraordinary thing.

Sunday 4 July 2021

Running Solo

 It happened again. 

I woke one morning and the sky wasn't there any more. Just a crushing absence, a huge weight of emptiness. 

For some time this year I've been plagued with a recurring dream, more of a nightmare really. I was at the finish of Dragon's Back, looking for my fella. I couldn't find him. When I did see him, he was with someone else.

I've been in a strange place with running for a while. Partly down to injury and partly down to the sheer stress and busy-ness of life both at work and at home. The desire to run long or race is still absent, perhaps because of the loss of confidence from injury. Physically I'm still not properly recovered- my right leg and foot don't seem to be working properly- but there's no pain and my mobility has improved. Mentally there's a huge fear when I consider the prospect of racing and also an overwhelming exhaustion- I'm not ready to face long drives, very early starts, driving home straight after running a long way. And I don't feel like seeking out more suffering when there's so much of it each day anyway.

This year was full of plans. Now there are none, no dreams, no celebrations. It's a very dark place to be. I'll survive and keep going because I have to, but a life with nothing but that isn't much of a life. I'm looking forward to the end of this race.