It's not the runstreak, to be honest. It's the chance that the run will be okay and I'll get to feel normal that I don't want to let go of. I ended up running with Sweatshop and had the same lovely runner as at the weekend run with me and put up with my stopping every so often to feel grotty.
At least I managed to run. I feel quite, I don't know, judged for carrying on running at the moment. It's not as if I don't know that rest is an option. It's not as if I don't know that I could stop. But it really isn't like that. I'm not obsessively running to clock up the days. Yes, I know I write down the number, but that's just a handy way of logging things. I just want to feel happy again. I want to feel free. I want to feel like me. I want to have a route back into myself that without running feels harder to find.
So, I put on my trainers. I give it another go. I try my hardest to see what I can achieve. I try my hardest not to cry with frustration that it's so damn hard at the moment. And it's not me *not* being 'kind' to myself by carrying on. It's me offering myself a tiny bit of hope that it will be better. That I'll feel better. That one day soon this nightmare of PTSD will ease and that I will be okay.
You don't enjoy every run. You don't always feel joy while you're running. I might feel anxious and ill a lot of the time right now... and maybe that is intruding into my running. But while I can at least try to run, I'm going to give it my best go.
Geeky stats stuff
| Distance: | 3.18 mi |
| Time: | 31:56 |
| Avg Pace: | 10:03 min/mi |
| Elevation Gain: | 107 ft |
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