A realisation struck recently; I still had a live blog that hadn’t been updated in a while. On inspection while turned out to be 11 months. I remember writing the last one, on the train back to Edinburgh to meet the hospital staff whilst A slept on my chest in the baby carrier. I wasn’t great then, the blog was supposed to be a release be in reality it wasn’t. However by the time I wrote that I was taking literal steps to help me cope, I just hadn’t noticed yet.
When I wrote my last blog post in March 2016 I was running again. I’d run before, never seriously or with any great ability, but I’d done a handful of races and Parkruns. In 2013 I ran the very first Yorkshire Marathon, enjoying the atmosphere of my first marathon for the first 18 miles or so, then finding the lure of St John and his fine fleet of ambulances increasingly difficult to resist as my legs set firm and every part of my body begged me to stop. In the following two years you could count on one hand the number of times I went out for a run. Running was no longer for me.
However, in the grief fuelled haze I was trying desperately to ignore I needed to do something positive. My wife had already taken the initiative and signed herself up for some runs to kick start her sponsorship drive for charity, with friends across the country following her lead and forming their own army of fundraisers. It didn’t take much persuasion to get me involved, I was signed up for three half marathons before long and these would be my contribution to E’s army, raising money for charity and running three lots of 13.1 miles with E’s smiling face emblazoned across my chest by way of the customised running tops.
Over the course of 2016 three half marathons eventually became six, with a supporting role in the Yorkshire Marathon to boot (my wife ran her first marathon and a place became available for me to run with her). By the time I’d finished the first half marathon of the year I was a runner again. Hooked on the thrill of race day yes, but this time there was more. I was running these for E. I wanted to do well for E. Her face was carrying me round the route and we were connected again.
I’m not sure when it clicked but during my training I noticed a significant change in my mood. Yes I was still low, and yes it was still shit, but I was lifted. The exercise was making me fitter in my body, and also in my mind. I was less prone to breaking down when I was on my own and the distractions keeping the sadness at bay were absent (usually on the dark walk back home from the rail station, or when sat feeding A in her dark, quiet room before bed). Any gaps in training would bring about predictable lapses in my resolve, those bedtime tears creeping back out (thankfully A was only 4 or 5 months old when these were at their worst and never seemed to cotton on), so training took on greater importance. I was training to run quicker, feel better, and be stronger for those around me.
Skip forward to 2017 and I run more than ever, having joined a local running club towards the end of last year to make sure I kept active over winter. Even when I was running for pleasure pre-2013 I never ran over winter, the cold is not for running in. It worked. I’ve kept up my physical fitness and I haven’t had a serious lapse in some time (not counting Christmas and E’s birthday which no amount of endorphins could get me through smoothly).
So far there are two races in the diary for this year, both marathons, significantly one being the Edinburgh marathon. That’s where we lost E, in the Edinburgh children’s hospital, and where we try to do the most good to help those experiencing the worst of times imaginable for a parent. It will be emotional to be back there, and in my energy depleted post marathon state there will undoubtedly be tears at the finish line, but I’m looking forward to it. I’m looking forward to pushing myself again. I’m looking forward to meeting members of the Sick Kids Foundation and being part of their team for the day. And I’m looking forward to running 26.2 miles with E on my chest again. She’s going to get me round and make sure St John and his ambulances don’t start to tempt me in again.
Today marks the official start of my marathon training plan for Edinburgh. A gentle 3 miles to start off the programme will follow A’s bedtime tonight. Touch wood, neither of us have shed a tear at bedtime in some time. Alongside the latest running goal I’m also going to aim to make better use of this blog. When I set it up I thought it would help me deal with everything that was whirling through my head. It didn’t, but running did. However I wish I’d kept the blog going this last year, purely as a log of how I was doing. I enjoy the running geek nature of tracking and analysing every step I take through Strava. I love seeing how I’m progressing ahead of each race and scoff at how long it took me to run up ‘that’ hill this time last year. Perhaps this is where the blog can fill the gap and make sure I keep it up to date. This blog will be my Strava for grief. Looking back at the brief history of this blog I can already see how much progress has been made since last year. Let’s hope 2017 sees that trend continue.