Out of Sorts. A Sort of Nightmare

Out of Sorts

I’m antsy. Not for the first time, let’s be real. But more antsy than usual. An antsy level that pushes the lid of the saucepan up, boiling rapidly underneath, threatening to erupt into a fukushima on my cooker.  Why? Because my running days were thrown all over the place this week. This is not a good reason for ridiculous mental turmoil. Frankly, it’s just plain silly. I know this, but yet… the antsiness.

I’m coming to the end of a marathon training segment and I’ve gotten very used to running certain runs on certain days. It’s reliable, it keeps me grounded and it plays a insanely disproportionate massive part in keeping me sane on a day-to-day basis. When life happens and runs have to be moved or missed altogether, it makes me a bit nervous. Usually, I get over it and move on like a normal person. But this week saw the beginning of the dreaded taper so I’ve probably had more energy and time for excessive pondering and to be thinking about running, rather than just doing it. Silly, I know. But it’s psychology, not logic, so my rational lawyerly attempt to dissect all of this head-nonsense is probably entirely pointless.

Ay, my head hurts from all this thinking!
Ay, my head hurts from all this thinking.

Sadly, someone very dear to me died during the week and it was important to be able to go to the funeral and be with family. But with so much going on, I really felt the need to get outside into the fresh air for a few hours and just think. I need headspace. It’s just the kind of person I am and running gives me that headspace like nothing else. It calms me and allows me some peace and time to sort everything out in my head so that by the end of it, I always feel better able to face things and deal with life. It’s not always about times, pace and targets. It’s cathartic in a way that nothing else is for me.

Beautiful fresh brill. Spoilt for dinner.
Beautiful fresh brill. Spoilt for dinner.

I ran my missed 12 miler this morning. I thought a lot, I used my feet a fair bit and I let the calm come in. I’ve had my medication, I’ve found my place again and I’m ready. Or at least I will be when I get through my last long run of 16 miles tomorrow.

Running may not be a cure-all, but it keeps me sane and for that I am insanely grateful. Also for chocolate muffins. Always grateful for chocolate muffins.

The last word in food.
The last word in food.

4 thoughts on “Out of Sorts. A Sort of Nightmare

  1. I’m so sorry for your loss, but I’m so glad that running is such a great outlet for you. I can totally relate to that. It helps me think (or not think if that’s what I need), enjoy life and re-energize. I hope this coming week is better for you!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Thanks Nicole, that’s very kind of you. Yep, running seems to work whatever the mood I’m in – happy, sad, distracted, excited… it’s like the ultimate hobby! Glad it works for you too 🙂


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