Running with Depression

As if exercise wasn't hard enough to do or fit into your 'busy' diary, you somehow have to find some inner strength to not only put on some workout clothes but to actually go out and work up a sweat. Quite frankly this has not happened for me.

Where is that inner strength? Where has the passion for fitness gone? ...it's simple, my dog ate it.

I have a black dog and its name is depression. It follows me everywhere and consumes every part of my life. Learning to live with a black dog is difficult. Learning to control your black dog is even harder. Things I used to like, love and enjoy are simply a long cardiac arrest of doing nothing. You just lay there. Motionless. Emotionless.

I keep waiting for the moment the light bulb will come on, the moment you get slapped in the face with reality, the moment you stick up two fingers at your black dog and say I'm going to do what I want.

....but it doesn't come.

My friends do their best with their researched 'things to say (and not) to someone who has depression' but at the end of the day, their lack of understanding my exact position is my ammunition to keep them at arms length.

But something has changed. A change that was bound to happen and a change that only I can change its course. My body has inevitably changed shape due to my lack of exercise. The point has come where I don't like how my body has become. I miss my athletic toning. I miss my physical strength. I miss my endurance. It's time to get it back. It's time to be in charge again.

I've signed up for a half marathon later in the year. In a few months actually. My friends are surprised. 'Why not a 5k or a 10k?' 'You don't make things easy on yourself'. I'm not surprised of their initial lack of support. They know how their 'fitness freak' friend has become the anti-workout one. The fact of the matter is this. I don't see a half marathon as a big deal. No matter what race I signed up for it would still require the same from me; commitment, desire, sticking to a schedule. I don't know if I'm going to run the whole 13.1 miles but I will complete it. The added bonus of this race. It's in a place where I have a great friend. A super added bonus is my great friend has an equally great other half I consider a friend too. So not only will I get to do a race, get another medal for my bedroom post, but also see two friends (of whom I don't see much of due to geography).

13.1 is my number and I'm gunning for it.

London Marathon 2012

A few months back that magical time of year had arrived once again and I was  on the start line for London Marathon 2012. There is something monumentally different about starting a run from your house and starting a race in the glorious capital and one of the world leading routes. The thought of it still gives me goose bumps, still excites me and makes me smile.

Each April thousands of runners and supporters head to London to either run, walk, scream, chant and support each other. It’s a day you never forget. It’s a day when memories are made. It’s a day that  for us runners we have been training months for. No more winter runs. One early alarm. One pair of trainers. One running number. One own self will to get round that route.

This was my second marathon and my most proudest run to date. Past year I’ve battled depression in its ugliest form. I didn’t think I would make it to the start line. Didn’t think I’d complete any sort of training. Didn’t think I had it in me to complete 26.2 miles. Of course the stubborn part of me and the part that doesn’t want to admit to others that I wont do it crossed my mind and thus didn’t tell others how i really felt. I’m a testament to those in similar situations that no matter what you’re going through, you can still achieve something. Can still make yourself proud. Can still prove those negative thoughts wrong.

I’m not going to lie, it was hard. There were days, weeks where I didn’t run. The one aspect of my training that didn’t falter; my friends constantly checking on me and asking for updates. The longest I had run was 10miles. Longest I had covered was 13.1miles (Silverstone half). That sunny day in April was to be the longest run/walk I was to complete. You can do all the training in the world and still have a bad race. I didn’t do much training but I had a great race. I was sensible and broke up the miles. Run for 5miles and walk for 2miles. That later got amended and dragged out longer.

Highlight of the run was meeting Denise Lewis, chatting to her (with a camera and mic in my face) and having a photo with her. After that wonderful chance meeting (albeit I did scour for her on the bridge), I twisted my ankle and later found it to be swollen and bruised. I was aware of the twist but I kept on going. I kept on moving. I kept heading for that finish. I wasn’t going to let myself down and stop. There are always going to be obstacles in the way of completing/achieving things in life. If we cant jump over them, we find a way to go round them. Often so many people look at the closed door that they fail to see the open window. My closed door was that I was not able to run anymore. But my window was I could still power walk. I was surprised by my dad and youngest sister on mile 26 and boy did that bring a smile to my face.

Crossing that finish is a memory etched forever in my soul. Everything over the past winter months had accumulated in that one moment. Underneath the Timex clock. Standing on the red carpet. Posing for the cameras. History. Achievement. Courage. Strength.

That was me in the finish photo. That was all me that completed 26.2 miles. That was me that pulled off the unthinkable, the unimaginable. Me.

No one can take this away from me. Not even my own demons. My medal serves as a constant reminder that we all that warrior in us. We all have that will power and determination in us. We all can achieve what we set out to. In the process we learn more about ourselves, lets others in and learn that things do work out ok.

Some photos of mine from the day.