As things were flowing nicely in preparation for Edinburgh marathon my body, specifically my right knee, mounted a minor protest at all the early starts and extra miles and demanded a rest. My IT band was flaring up and causing quite a bit of aggro whilst I was running. A quick Google check presented some stretching exercises that should help and recommended a period of rest until things settle down. Not wanting to cause any serious damage before the marathon I dutifully changed my training plan for the week, I gave myself a week away from running.
This has been a long week. At first it was quite novel not having to worry about whether it was better to do 8 miles before or after work, whether I could run home in time to collect A from nursery, or whether running club were going off road again (they were). However this relief didn’t last. I read at the start of the week that you can take a week off running and not see any real impact on your fitness. That’s as maybe but I found day five to be the point where I started to lose a little of my mental strength.
It’s difficult to pin it exactly to my mini break from running, but Friday night was a low point. It’s the first time in a long time where I couldn’t sleep and my mind took me right back to that week in 2015, that room in Edinburgh, and sitting with E. All those numb, distant days that followed. Life didn’t really feel as if it was “just going on” it was quite the opposite, I couldn’t understand how life did just go on after this. Friday felt like this again.
A restless Friday gave way to a miserable Saturday. I can’t have been much fun. To compound matters A fell ill on Saturday. Nothing major, but her temperature spiked and immediately led to a tail spin. “What if she has a convulsion like E?” “What if it’s something worse?“. Both my wife and I struggled that night and I struggled to offer much support to her. In reality the dose of Calpol was enough to sort A out, but we checked on her constantly that night. I worry sometimes that we’re going to turn A in to some anxiety ridden germophobe when shes older, picking up on our over-the-top responses to her temperature. Hopefully she isn’t picking up any habits just yet, and maybe one day we can settle down with her.
Sunday rolled round and enough was enough. I went for a run. My knee is still sore, but not enough to worry about. And after the few days that preceded a little bit of knee pain is nothing. I think it helped.
These few days have reaffirmed what I already knew, running is keeping me going. In one sense that’s positive, I can go about daily life without much fuss. But on the counter to that I may just be running away from grief rather than facing it and dealing with it properly. Am I setting myself up for a fall in the future when my legs can’t hack it anymore? I am aware this may not be the ultimate solution. I associated with the things Rio Ferdinand described in his moving documentary, I keep busy to get by but I don’t process my grief. And today Prince Harry spoke of his 20 year struggle to face up to grief, instead finding himself avoiding thinking about his mum instead. Thankfully I haven’t gone too far down that path this time, although I did when my mum died. I love to think about E. I love to talk about E. I love the many photos and videos we have of E and telling A about her big sister.
For the time being running is here to stay. There’s no magic solution that’s going to help me through definitively so I’ll stick with what’s working, sort of. Anything that helps keep me upright can’t be a bad thing, plus it gives me that headspace for a short time each day to refocus. Although, for the sake of my knees, this training plan may be downgraded ahead of the next marathon.