Picture taken during today’s run
Wednesday 15th April 2020 (7.32pm).
Those who follow me on instagram (mind_over_marathon_runner) and Olly (olly_dog_cavachon) will know what we have been up to since my last blog and how we have been keeping ourselves busy. Whilst Olly continues to entertain, I am keeping my two feet moving and doing what I know will get me through the day and that is running. Grateful for some warm dry weather, I have got some good, enjoyable runs in and though it is the perfect weather for cycling, I have limited this to my local area due to the restrictions.
I am not seeing my therapist at the moment. I can via Skype or phone if I need to, but at the moment I am doing ok (yes I have my moments). I am banking my remaining sessions for another time.
My amazing friends keep me entertained everyday, with so many messages of support, encouragement and hope. Sometimes I am not the best in replying or I go off grid, but my friends know. I wasn’t looking forward to April and was dreading certain dates, but at the moment, they are becoming just another day.
I have a new life now. My past is exactly that. It has gone. No point reliving it. No point dwelling on it. I have dealt with what I have needed to, accepted outcomes, had certain thoughts challenged by my therapist and reframed any guilt or grief that I was carrying and importantly should not have been carrying. Alongside this, I was sent a message on FB on Saturday which firstly made me laugh, and then got me thinking. This person, who I hardly know made me look at something from a different perspective. Since Saturday, their words have given me a nudge in the right direction.
I am listening to an audiobook called ‘The Subtle Art of Not Giving A Fuck’ by Mark Manson. So much I can relate to of my past, but importantly so much I can relate to now as the next chapter unfolds. Writing this, I feel different, I feel like I have almost found myself again. For the last 5 months I have lived within what I can only describe as heavy cloud, where I had no strength to battle through. The boxing gloves I wore were like led weights stopping me from lifting my arms whilst my feet were trenched in thick tar, slowly lifting but making no progress. Now I am experiencing the cloud differently. It is a cloud as it should be, white, light and easy to glide through.
Things have shifted for me and I smile as I right this. I have plans when all this is over. I am looking forward to a potential move (but happy here if it does not come off). I am looking forward to seeing my friends again, BBQs planned, nights out planned, runs planned and who knows what else we will get up to. I am looking forward to going home or across to London to see family. I am looking forward to whatever comes next.
The George that is writing this now has a new clarity, a freshness, a newness, a purpose, shit loads ahead of her, and a lighter heart to give.
Stay safe peeps.