First run since I didn't run the Three Peaks.
Best part of a month. Just haven't felt motivated. Have felt low, have done a bit of biking, but haven't felt in the mood for really pushing myself (and I am almost physically incapable of "just going out for a jog").
On reflection there has probably been a few factors causing this.
-The highs of Skye, of escaping, of just living, no real-world worries
-The crushing low of coming home and falling ill immediately, driving to the start of the 3 Peaks after 2 hours sleep, 12 hours throwing up and unable to keep down food. Sitting in the car, realising that I was an absolute idiot for even attempting to drive that far, let alone set off on a 24 mile run.
-Picking myself up from missing one of my big targets for the year. Realising that I can, to an extent, make my head better. I'm still at the whim of passing bugs though.
-My ex-girlfriend appearing back in my life. I've never stopped thinking about her, but seeing her, talking to her, spending time with her, and laying some of the longer lasting questions and thoughts to rest (on both sides) was both cathartic and deeply upsetting. Almost traumatic. While exercise should have been my perfect way of processing and coping, I ended up retreating and hiding.
So today, I got up. Did think, just ate breakfast, pulled on my trainers and took the short route into work. My rucksack felt heavier than usual. My legs lacked the spring. I was breathing more heavily. But I was loving it. Why the hell did I stop? Why do I end up cutting out part of my life that makes me feel good? What causes me to slowly reach over and press the self-destruct button? It might not be copious amounts of illegal narcotics, or a bottle of whisky each night, but equally, allowing myself to stagnate is bad for me.
Sent from my iPhone
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