Just Keep Going

It’s been 3 months since my last post, largely due to the fact that training for the marathon has completely taken over. It’s what I think about when I wake up and what I think about before I go to sleep. Someone once said to me that marathon training should become part of your life, not take over it. I fear it has for me. I guess this is to be expected, as a brain that is susceptible to anxiety is inevitably going to be working overtime when dealing with all the issues, thoughts and routines that go into the training. On top of that there are the physical effects, especially the constant state of physical and mental exhaustion, both from the running, and also the day to day mood fluctuations that affect me, which can consequently facilitate an unpreventable downward spiral.

But this is all a side issue, the most important thing is raising money for Mind and helping all of those people out there suffering with poor mental health. I’ve raised over £1150 so far, and I am indebted to all the people who have parted with their hard earned cash to help me with this cause. For anyone who would like to donate, please head over to my sponsorship page: https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/james-wiffen And to find out about the valuable work that Mind does, check out their website: https://www.mind.org.uk/. For the 1 in 4 people that suffer a mental health issue each year, Mind’s mantra that “we believe no-one should have to face a mental health problem alone” is a message that needs to be spread far and wide.

My mood since my last blog on 3rd December can be easily characterised by this graph

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The pre-Christmas period was incredibly difficult as predicted, and in many ways I was relieved for it to be over, and the usually dark and grey January actually provided an opportunity to forget about the end of year struggles. Since Christmas it has been a consistent stream of peaks and troughs, with the peaks being too easy to fall off , and the troughs being impossibly difficult to climb out of. You go from one day feeling relatively at ease within yourself, to the very next day feeling so low and helpless that you can’t forsee how you will get through it. You never know which ‘you’ is going to be lifting their head from the pillow in the morning.

The next 6 weeks are going to be incredibly stressful, with the marathon on 22nd April, and then 8 days later my last day at work (due to redundancy). It’s going to be an emotional week, and I fear that an emptiness will sweep over me on 1st May, as two big things in my life will have ended, with the training having taken over the last 8 months, and my job being a central part of my life for over 5 years. I can’t help but feel trepidation about the future, and a great sadness at leaving the people that I have worked with since January 2013, and who have become like a family. It’s probably a good thing that the training is taking up so much time and headspace at the moment, as it doesn’t leave much room for dwelling on this forthcoming ending. But I predict that come 1st May it will push its way to front and centre in my mind.

Last week I had a personal setback which has greatly affected me the last few days, and has clouded the end of a week that began fairly positively. That’s the way it is though, a good start to the week is no guarantee of a good end to it. This made it all the more tough to get out there and run yesterday, and why I was plagued for 17 miles with thoughts and feelings that I just couldn’t escape. The faster I ran, the faster they chased me. I guess if I take off my ultra critical hat that has been fused to my head for so long, I should pat myself on the back for dragging myself round with that extra weight on my shoulders, in many ways acting as a metaphor for life. You’ve just got to keep going.


Running To and Running From

This is the first blog that I’ve posted in over three months, and the gap has been down to a number of reasons. Firstly, when I’ve been feeling particularly down I haven’t been able to summon the motivation to write anything, certainly not about how I’m feeling. Secondly, it can be quite exhausting to confront and verbalise moments of depression or low mood, and it therefore becomes easier to merely bury your head in the sand and try to forget. Finally, I guess I just ran out of things to say without repeating myself or appearing to be overtly negative.

A couple of weeks ago I was offered a place in next years London Marathon running for the charity Mind, which I duly accepted. Whilst this is an extremely daunting prospect, and feels like an enormous mountain to scale, I concluded that it was a great opportunity to raise awareness of the illness (and raise some money), while at the same time presenting me with a significant personal challenge to overcome. I’ve started running short distances at the gym in the last few weeks (5-7km) and whilst it feels as though I’m a monumental distance from the end goal, it is at least a start. Although I’m finding it truly exhausting (on top of the pre-existing medication/anxiety induced tiredness), the moments immediately after the running can feel almost euphoric due to the inevitable endorphin rush. Perhaps more importantly the running allows me to take my mind off all other thoughts and simply exist in the moment, pushing my body as far as it will go, and thus being temporarily unable to focus on the never-ending pervasive negative thoughts.

There is a long way to go, and it seems like an insurmountable challenge, but I’ll try not to look too far ahead, and will instead attempt to concentrate on the very short-term. If anyone is able to donate a small amount, then I would be extremely grateful. Please check out my Just Giving page: https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/james-wiffen? It really is for a great cause, and can help provide life changing support to those people that Mind helps.

The marathon is an example of running towards something, but at the same time I also find myself constantly running away from things in the rest of my life. The anxiety that’s prevalent within myself prevents me, and always has done, from doing the things that are typically associated with happiness: seeing friends, developing relationships, persuing hobbies or interests etc. I can’t count the number of times that I have backed out of seeing friends, going to parties, weddings, pre-arranged activities or just doing things that a ‘normal’ person would do, and in fact this doesn’t seem to be changing with age. I feel so positive about doing them initially, but as the time approaches the anxiety begins to prickle at the surface of the skin, until eventually it invades every inch of me, ensuring that the only option I can see is to back out. The inevitable guilt and feelings of letting people down are immediate, as is the knowledge that I’m failing to engage in the things that could or should provide a chance of happiness. The cycle of excitement, fear, regret is on a constant loop, and it gets to a point where I don’t bother arranging things as I can no longer kid myself into thinking I will follow them through.

The marathon is obviously a positive action, and provides an opportunity to run towards a defined destination. I only wish this could be replicated in the rest of my life, as at the moment it feels as though I’m running away, and not towards, the things that I need most of all.

Running Away

Thankfully the title is not referring to any type of literal or metaphorical escape, but is in fact a reference to my new found addiction to running. Addiction is described as “the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice”, and I believe it’s use in this situation is apt, although thankfully it is not a dependence of the negative variety usually associated with the term. Perhaps ‘addiction’ is too strong a word, as that implies it is an ‘unhealthy pursuit’ precipitated by a belief that you cannot live without something, and that you will go to any length for your next ‘hit’. However, there are clearly some endeavours (such as exercise) where a craving is completely advantageous, and the negative repercussions are noticeable by their absence.

It started off as a functional avocation, primarily as an attempt to lose a bit of weight and increase non-existent levels of fitness. I’ve applied for the London Marathon next year through a few mental health charities and whilst this is not directly related (as a place is not guaranteed…and besides next April is so far away), in the back of mind I thought that it would be a good idea to start some basic training to see how I would cope. The second motivation, and one which has formed a basis for many failed attempts at joining and maintaining a presence at the gym, was the widely held belief that exercise can be invaluable in managing poor mental health. Whilst it can so often be a frustrating cliché (“why don’t you go for a walk”… if only it were that simple), it is certainly a theory based on scientific fact.  Regular exercise can “release feel-good brain chemicals that may ease depression (neurotransmitters, endorphins and endocannabinoids) and it can reduce immune system chemicals that can worsen depression.”

This scientific jargon is all well and good, but putting it in practice is another thing entirely. Often when you find yourself a deep depressive episode you cannot drag yourself out to the gym or the park. Even if you can manage that, finding the motivation to maintain a regular commitment to exercise can be inexorably challenging. However, once I had got through the first couple of days (nearly being sick and struggling to breathe), the effects of the running were quite intoxicating. I haven’t found the confidence yet to run outside the confines on the gym, but I find the static and contained nature of the treadmill quite reassuring. During the actual running I push myself hard, and for that period of exertion my mind can become relatively blank; the need to propel my muscles to their limits, and fight the effects of the lactic acid build up, ensuring that there is little space for any ruminations or worrying. If I’m lucky the only noise in my brain is from the music that is being pumped in from my iphone’s Spotify app.

The effects of a tough run (I’m focused only on running rather than other cardio options) can remain with you for some time afterwards. Whilst the actual exercise can be painful at times, the after effects are mildly euphoric, both in terms of a sense of achievement, but also as a physical act of reducing anxiety and increasing energy levels. Admittedly these sensations wear off within a few hours, and thus only provide a temporary relief, but that is certainly better than nothing. I have occasionally pushed myself too hard, especially considering I’ve only been immersed in the exercise for a couple of weeks, and this can lead to some physical difficulties afterwards. But that is something I hope I will learn to curb over time.

Whether this is a pursuit I will be able to maintain, and whether the concept of achieving a regular attendance (let alone running a marathon) is all but a pipe dream, only time will tell. I’m sure there will be times that I cannot motivate myself to leave the flat, or when my mind is too frazzled to even comprehend a trip the gym. But like depression in general, this is a hurdle to overcome, and the difficult first step has been taken. The Black Dog revels in keeping you weighed down in lethargy and inactivity, so if this can present an opportunity to get one over on the old adversary, then I hope my running shoes will be called into action for a long while yet.