Please don’t tell me what’s good for me

Respectfully, I ask, of course.

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Kicking CFS butt, before it kicks mine

It’s been a while since I had a big whine and moan about the tiredness, and that’s largely because I’ve been too tired to really think about it. But at the moment, it feels like a different kind of tired; the tired you feel at the end of a long day, after exertion or after you’ve been taxing your brain. The kind of tired that isn’t the relentless, crushing fatigue associated with CFS/ME. And whilst I have felt like getting out of bed may actually kill me from time to time, I’ve done it, every day.

I’ve actually been feeling better for not allowing myself time to think about it. I’ve (touch wood), been doing really well.

In the time since my last self-indulgent rant about chronic fatigue, I have hit several milestones in recovery, thanks in part to a couple of changes I have made. Continue reading

Giving anxiety a run for its money: Dirty Dozen 18k

I’d never done a Dirty Dozen before, but my god, had I heard about them. Doug ‘The Beard’ Spence has near legendary status within OCR and a reputation for putting on a good show over a slightly longer distance than advertised. I knew vaguely what to expect, but I didn’t foresee how I would react to the challenges the course presented. That is, to say, I think I had a mental breakdown. Continue reading

Conversations with my anxiety

Sometimes I find it a bit hard to explain what anxiety does to a usually rational person’s brain. The best way to characterise my anxiety is to play out some conversations that it has with my brain. At first I didn’t want to personify anxiety, because that would give it form, a personality and even make it seem cute. I assure you, it isn’t, but this is the only way I feel able to express how it interacts with my own sense of reason. Continue reading

On losing my mojo

For approximately 3k in any race, I pretty much want to die, stop running, give up OCR, take up knitting, or start creating a basic shelter in surrounding woodland in which I can hibernate. In short, it takes me a while to warm up. By about 4k, I start to feel positive about the fact that I’m getting into the swing of it, finding a sensible pace and not overtly negative about my life choices. By the end of the race, I’ve forgotten what my stupid brain was whining about and I’ve got my game face on for a sprint finish. Continue reading