I think it’s fair to say that this little blog has been somewhat neglected, but it’s not for want of me thinking about it and *trying* to get things done. But if I’ve learned anything from the experience I’m about to describe, it’s that I can no longer afford to beat myself up about that, because I’m learning how to pace. Continue reading
Respectfully, I ask, of course.
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
The second leg of my Recovery Runs started with me hiding from my dad as I heard him clipping on his heart rate monitor. I was huddled on the couch, praying he’d forget that he wanted to take me for a run. Continue reading
I have had enough. I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired, and I’ve been so incredibly dizzy lately that I’ve had genuine concerns that I might throw up on people under the cargo net in races. In fact, I’ve been so dizzy that I’ve not even been able to walk properly, let alone run. And enough is enough. Continue reading