Month +18: Moving Slowly

To some, it might seem an odd way to celebrate the new year, but for the running club it is now a New Years tradition to take a trip up to the Staffordshire Moorlands to the peaceful village of Rudyard, and to run a half marathon. The now well trodden route takes us around the picturesque Rudyard lake, flanked as it is on each side by steep wooded hillsides, up and over the country lanes towards the market town of Leek, before making its way along the canal and finally trekking back down the old abandoned railway line to the village for tea and cake. It was a tough run, and had it not been for the encouragement of my friends (thank you Jen) and the promise of home-made banana cake, I may have given up. But I made it to the finish, because if nothing else I’m stubbornly determined. And because distance running is something I’ve missed. And because I now know that sometimes, the fastest way to get there, is to go slowly.

Using distance running as an metaphor for recovery is both convenient, and surprisingly relatable. There is no percentage in getting carried away at the outset, you’ll just get exhausted sooner. You need to keep your eye on the goal – remember, the aim is to finish; One moment you’ll feel elated, the next you’ll feel like giving up – this is normal, go with it; focus on your own journey rather than anyone else’s; every step forward is a step in the right direction; and if you want to ensure you finish, and finish strong, always be prepared to slow down. The single best piece of advice given to me about distance running is that a brisk walker is always faster than a broken runner (thank you Nicola). I am now applying that great advice to life in recovery. I have been as guilty as the next person for diving headlong into their new-year resolutions with reckless abandon and unfettered enthusiasm, with largely predictable results; an exhausted husband and Dad.

I used to take on these running challenges (such as running every day in January) as ‘proof’ that I was not, in fact, seriously ill. I mean, could a sick person run 10k a day for 31 days straight? “I think not!” I would say, shaking my fist at the sky! I’m not sure who I was trying to kid, myself or the universe, but the trick worked. For a while. I would do these challenges with a defiant and determined resolve, using them as personal validation and as proof that I was not down and out just yet. And so I found myself, once again, signing up for the usual New Years challenges, out of habit more than anything. However, I soon realised that I had nothing to prove, and even less to gain. Besides, I’m older and wiser now, and in order to be old and wise, we first have to be young and stupid, I’m done with all that silly bravado stuff now.

I used to run to find answers, and knew that if I didn’t have some of them after two or three hours’ on the trails, they weren’t ready to be found. But I’ve discovered that a big part of recovery is knowing that we don’t have all the answers, and that we never will, but we go ahead and heal anyway. And with that in mind I have now settled on one, simple goal for 2022: to do more of the things that make me happy. It’s a bit of a catch all, but works fine for me. The focus is not really on the destination, but the journey, and the key to success is making the most of it while we can. We’ve all had a bit of a bumpy ride just lately, so before we get stuck into our 2022 goals, we mustn’t forget to pause and take a moment to thank ourselves for getting through 2021, to count our wins, and to remember all the people who never made it this far. So here’s to us. And here’s to absent friends. Happy new year peeps.

Cheers.