Running for my life

Ok so here's the thing.

I know it's really, really annoying when people post constant status' about going for a run on Facebook or Twitter. I get that posts of maps outlining routes, apps showing time and distance stats and all of that crap are highly uninteresting and probably deemed a bit 'showy-offy' by the non running, no desire to run majority. 

But I totally and absolutely understand why they do it. And I'm joining in.

This week has been a bit flat. I've not had any severe downs, but no super highs either, just plodding along, getting by. Last night I went for a run when my husband got home from work. I didn't really fancy it, it was dark, cold and raining and with yet another round of PMT to contend with I'd have much rather have stayed in the warm and curled up with some chocolate. BUT I kept telling myself how good I would feel afterwards.

I started out aiming for 2.5 miles and was soaked and fed up before I'd done half a mile. Then a song came on my iPod. A song that takes me right back to my best friends living room more than two years ago, where her husband stood with nothing but shorts on, singing along to it.

He died of a heart attack not long afterwards.

Hearing that song, whilst running in the dark and the rain, made me smile. I hope it doesn't sound weird, but I had a little conversation with him in my head whilst I ran. He told me to 'Get on with it Love'.  'Bring it on mate'. was my response.
I went on to run 4 miles in my best time since I had Joe, and dare I say, it felt almost effortless.

My mind can make most things negative. I can turn an innocent offer to help me with something into meaning I'm stupid, if someone says I've lost weight I think of how fat I must have been for them to notice and if someone is off, rude or upset I will always assume it is something I've done. I try very very hard to give myself credit for what I do and how I do it, but it is not in my nature to really ever believe anything positive is down to me.
But with running, I have to accept it.

I cannot question that the person who made me go out last night was me. Because no one else can put my Lycra on and force me out of the door into the cold. The only person who did it, and keeps doing it, is me. I can't even ridicule myself for the time I take out to do it, and call it selfish or indulgent because, for christs sake, it's running! It is the one thing in my life, where I can achieve, and really believe that I've achieved. If I run a new personal best time or distance, no one can take that away from me, including my depressed mind.

Nearly 5 years ago, in February 2010,  I ran my first 10k (6 ish miles) race, to support a charity and a friend. It took me well over an hour and I had to walk a lot of it. As soon as I finished I went to get my fags out of the car.

In April 2013 I almost ran my first marathon. After 20 miles, feeling sick, I stopped to walk for a bit and although I ran again later on, I didn't manage to run the whole 26.2 miles non stop which was my goal.

In April 2015 I'm trying again.

Not everyone has been very supportive of that decision. Family are concerned I am taking on too much, friends think I'm crazy. But the daft thing is, I think they should be more worried if I ever stop running. I have to have that thing in my life that I'm proud of myself for. I need the marathon date as motivation, and I NEED to run the whole thing this time. To run the whole marathon, to beat my demons and my doubters, will be unquestionable achievement that my mind will never, ever be able to take away from me.

I can hate myself, my personality, how I look, but I can't question my dedication to the road, my ability to push myself over mile upon mile of tarmac just because I want to achieve something that badly.

Maybe that will be my epitaph the day I die. "She struggled with everything, but running".