Learning to run again

So last Sunday, 5th October, I got out for my first run in 2 months. Only a 5k route near my home but it was a a pretty big deal for me. As per my last post, I’ve been desperate to get out again and make sense of my world while my lungs go in a huff with me. I had to stop twice, which annoyed me even though I know I’m just coming back from an injury, because I think of how I could run 42k just 6 months ago. Overall though I enjoyed getting out and having 25 mins to myself where I could figure out how to manage the next 7 days (No iPod was required for this run, I needed as much space as I could for my thoughts).

Work has been a bit of a nightmare of late. Boss has resigned & a large part of the project I work on has been canned, both of which aren’t ideal when you are a contractor. But I was pretty confident that work would take care of itself, and besides I only had a 4 day week ahead of me.

Off to Glasgow on Thursday morning for my first flight with Milo, just 1 week shy of his 4 month ‘birthday’. 3am rise to get things ready and into the car, drive to airport, get him through security then onto the plane. fairly stressful stuff but again not the major thing in the back of mind.

The reason we were heading to Glasgow, was for a wedding. Maybe it’s a sign of a certain age, but I love weddings. There’s no doubt some are better than others, but if you are going to one where you know both the bride & the groom then it’s even better, and I think it was only after my own wedding that I really started to enjoy going to them so much. There’s something about seeing 2 folk you know who are ideal together making the commitment in front of friends & family and knowing how good it feels to be in that situation. That and it’s also one of the few occasions now where it’s socially acceptable to be pissed before 4pm. (Christmas day is another such event, I believe). The wedding we had in Glasgow ticked the aforementioned boxes and so a cracking time was had by all.

Maybe it was the hangover on the Friday, or the fact that with only 5 hours drunken sleep I had to host a work conference call with some senior folk in our German office, but I had already regressed a little into the glass half empty version of myself by Friday afternoon. My intention on Friday evening was to go and see my oldest Son, Lewis, unannounced at his home. I had no idea how it would go but my brain decided to show me a few options via the medium of daydream which were all pretty negative.

At 5pm I signed off from my remote connection to my work, and jumped in my dad’s car, heading toward’s the meeting that had dominated my 5k run 5 days before. By 6pm, I was back again at my parent’s house. It had been short, but there’s was a little potential in the  air. He said he’d like to come down and see his newest brother the next morning before we flew back to London. Certain other parties implied that this might not have been 100% sincere, but I felt like running home rather than driving. Negativity was getting put back in box. (it’s actually not that far between where Lewis stays and my parent’s stay, so running home isn’t exactly a crazy thought. In fact I have run the route a few times in my marathon training. but regardless, it’s how I felt and it sounds good in this context so just go with it ands stop nitpicking)

Friday night I had an amazing sleep. again many factors here. hungover & sleep deprived from Thursday. My mum looking after Milo. being in my old bed at my parents house that’s the same one I slept in as a kid! but I think the potential start of a reconciliation was the real tonic for my slumber.

Saturday morning I woke to a text about Lewis losing his phone. Was this the start of things unravelling? Was it a convenient excuse for him not to answer my txts to arrange meeting? Again the kind of negative thoughts that I could have crumbled under in months gone by but I somehow knew even from our briefest of conversations the night before that he wouldn’t let me down. At 12:30 on Saturday I got to take this photo:

Lewis with Milo

Lewis with Milo

if you follow my reflex mirror photography blog you may realise I’m quite picky about my photos. I find fault in one which don’t have them. My wife sees this the most (and it annoys her. A lot!) So I’ll end up not publishing a photo or asking her not to put it on Facebook unless I’m absolutely positive it’s a worthy photo. Of all the photo’s I’ve taken, the one above is one of the least technical, and its pretty poorly lit, but it doesn’t matter. It’s the best photo I’ve posted on any blog because of what it means. It felt like having the Lewis of old back and hopefully he thought similar of me.

There’s still a lot of work to do between us both, to get back to where we were before in our relationship. Much in the same way there’s a lot of work for me to do, to be able to run any kind of decent distance without having to stop twice. Both situations are gonna take effort, and a positive outlook, things which I have in abundance after the past 7 days. I certainly don’t intend to let anything slip to as bad as they got again, and even if things have to slow down, as long as they still move in the right direction that’s all that matters.

Back in London today I went out for another 5k run. I took my iPod and went out and enjoyed every sweaty, breathless minute of it. Only 1 stoppage this time so already an improvement on the previous week. I’m taking that as a sign of things to come.

Graeme.

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