From runner to non-runner

Taking up running changed my life. Giving up running changed my life again.

I started running seriously after the end of a relationship. I had tried a few times before but never really stuck at it; struggling to get beyond a few feet before collapsing, out of breath and not trying again for a few months.

This time, after the end of a less-than-healthy long term relationship, I felt the need to get myself into a better place both mentally and physically and running proved to be a way to do that. I fell in love with it. With the way my body felt after a run; with the gradual toning of my muscles; the growing capacity of my lungs. It felt great to be able to measure my improvement, running further, faster, harder. It was the empowerment I needed at a vulnerable time in my life.

There were days where it hurt and I struggled, having to amend my goal for that run. Other days I sailed past my goals and achieved more than I hoped. But it was a journey for me. A journey of growth, of setting a hitting goals, of finding a strength in myself that I didn’t know I had. I had never been particularly competitive but competing against myself gave me a focus, not just in running but in other areas of my life, too.

And then I was hit with chronic illness. Chronic Fatigue Syndrome (CFS), also known as ME is thought to affect 0.4% of the population. Although my case is mild, it changed my life. At the time, I was working 3 different jobs as well as a weekly voluntary role. I have had a series of health limitations over the last few years and suffer from intermittent insomnia, too. CFS is not so much a diagnosis as an inability to find a cause for a cluster of symptoms. The diagnosis was a huge blow to me and it took me a long time to come to terms with it. I have always been one of those people who is ‘always tired’ but CFS is on a different level.

Within the space of a few weeks I went from running 6k to barely being able to make it up my own stairs. I had to cut my activities dramatically. I gave up two of my jobs, staying on in my main job as a teaching assistant. The condition is one that ebbs and flows. On my good days, life is relatively ‘normal’ – my activities are hugely curtailed, but I can fulfil my duties at work and you would not tell by looking at me that there was anything wrong. On my bad days I can barely drag myself out of bed.

There are days when I could probably run, at least a short distance, but then there is a thing called ‘post-exertional malaise’. This ensures that when I ‘overdo’ things on a given day – which at the time can feel perfectly ok - it will knock me out for a day or more afterwards. Some other of my symptoms are: ‘brain fog’ and difficulties with word retrieval; frequent fevers, nausea and dizziness; light and sound sensitivities; headaches; tinnitus, palpitations and various others, including low libido. When I catch infections (which I do frequently, working with primary aged children) they last for weeks. I am currently towards then end of a cold which first started over 3 months ago).

Last year, I had a stressful visit to my sister, who was unwell in hospital, including a 12 hour round-trip train journey. On return home, my health crashed. I was off work for several days while I recovered and had to cut my hours for the next few months. It took months to get back on my feet. I have been relatively lucky, some people with this illness can’t work, some are mostly bedbound, but this illness has changed my life, hugely. It has adjusted not only my day to day activities, but also my future goals.

I love going to gigs and have been all over the world to see bands I love. I would stand outside venues for hours before defending my spot on the barrier for hours more. I used to go on holiday and just walk, walk, walk around different places. I never had to think about what I was doing, I would just do it, multiple jobs and multiple activities each day. I have a short attention span and like to be busy and mentally stimulated. I have always juggled multiple jobs and studies at once.

My life has changed. I have had to slow down. I work part time and I plan activities meticulously to try and manage my energy as much as possible. The plus side is that I spend much more time working on self-care and celebrating the smaller things in life, I am kinder to myself and listen to my body.

I have always had body image issues. Not major ones, but a discomfort with my body. I had children very young and my body was already forever changed before it had finished growing. I have a lot of scars stemming from past depression and self-harm. I also had messages in childhood and adolescence which exacerbated my own feelings of inferiority. Running made me far more conscious of my body and of my power over it. Stopping running changed me physically as well as psychologically. I still exercise, but my muscle tone has reduced and I have put on weight. The difference is, though, that having experienced a period where I could do very little, I am now far more focused on what my body can do than what it looks like. I eat well and I exercise every day and I do what I can to stay healthy both physically and mentally. I wish I could do more than I can, but I regret not appreciating what I was capable of before.

So, I choose to practice gratitude. It is not the life I imagined for myself, but it is my reality, at present. Very few people ‘recover’ from CFS so while I remain hopeful, I have also accepted my present limitations and done my best to have the best quality of life I can manage within those restrictions.