After my 3 mile hell (see last post) things got worse. The plan was to get up early-ish yesterday and get our working week off to a good start with a nice positive run. My gremlins and stupid depression mutt had other ideas. I did get up, tempting as it was to hide under the duvet. We set off. It felt physically hard but ok. I was doing it. My legs felt quite tired, I felt quite tired but hey, I was out, I was doing it. I dragged myself to the golf course – downhill from here for a bit. I get scared going downhill but it was ok, I felt pretty ok, just a bit tired. We turned towards Silsden on the canal. It was hard, really hard. Nothing really wanted to quite move. One foot in front of the other… I was slowing down. We got to where the nice path turns into track, just keep running. We turned and I was now definitly running slower than walking pace. I’d hit a physical brick wall. Everything hurt, one foot in front of the other just wasn’t possible and I had nothing left mentally to push through. Nothing at all. I did something I haven’t done for about 6 months (other than because of injury), I stopped. I was too exhausted to block out the negative voices, too drained to give the black stupid puppy dog a good kick, too ’empty’ to fight that sense of ‘I can’t do this.
It was a long walk back. I cried.
I will try again today