Sunday 22 October 2017

Losing the Light

This has been something I have wanted to write for a long time, but I just couldn't find the strength or the words.  This is my lament and this is my rising.

Sixteen months ago my heart was broken and I lost my way in life.  I'm a runner, but I cannot run any more.  For many years I battled a hip niggle that just seemed to keep getting worse.  Physio after physio blamed my weak glutes and I would be sent away with a whole heap of butt exercises.  It turns out my butt is innocent!  My hips hurt because I have early onset arthritis due to bilateral hip dysplasia.  I will never run again and I will face my first double hip replacement within the next ten years.

Since that day I have lived the hardest months of my life.  A friend told me that I "shouldn't let this change me".  At the end of your days, you will be a different person to who you are now, every experience you live will change you in some small way.  On that day, I changed.  Running was taken away from me, running was my greatest love, it was all of my dreams, it was all of my spare time and it was all of my friendships.  This is how loss operates, it never stands alone.  Loss will take one thing from you and then it will start to pull in everything that surrounds it until there is nothing left.

In the beginning you will cry - not quiet tears, but the kind that rack your entire body and last for hours.  That gets replaced, the great sadness you will feel succumbs to a nothingness and you become numb.  You can get up, you can go to work and you can stick a smile on your face and act like everything is fine.  Inside, you feel nothing.  At first it's a relief as the sadness has moved on, but then you realise that joy has left with it.  Gradually, over a few months,  I lost all of the light and faced the dark.

Thankfully, I wasn't alone.  I will be ever grateful for everything that Rich and Fionna did for me. When I wanted to fall away from life they wouldn't let me.  So many people drifted away and became memories, but Rich and Fionna stayed by my side.  They both made sure I wasn't sitting at home by myself; they changed their lives and their routines to do things that I could do with them.  Between them they brought joy back.

Shit!
So, we jump to now.  I'm not a runner, I'm something better - I'm a mountain biker and I love my two bikes.  They are my pride and joy and they have given me another dawn.  Why mountain biking?  Because, it is the only thing I can do that will allow me to be in the hills.  Lack of choice is definitely a way of making you stick at a tough sport.  My God, it is tough.  Runners sometimes look down on mountain bikers, but they really shouldn't.  It's tougher to get up hill, you have to learn how to control the bike on downhills and your falls are faster, higher and harder.  Rich has surprised me with presents of knee pads and a full face helmet.  I'm still not quite sure what he is trying to say.  I'm out on my bike 6 days a week, each time trying to ride better, trying to gain the courage to ride something that I've previously walked.  Sometimes my goal is just trying to stay on the bloody bike.  Crashing seems to be my favourite thing to do.

Cheap bike mechanic!
I didn't get here on my own.  I am indebted to Rich who has been amazing in every way possible.  From becoming my go-to (really cheap, sort of free) bike mechanic, to adapting his running training to come out with me.  Sean and Lewis have taken me out on lots of Tayside rides and worked with me to improve my confidence.  "Ride it again" became a bit of a personal mantra.  Sean and Lewis also have quite interesting chat, I'm too mentally scarred to dwell on that.  Finally, Anna, Ellie and Debbie who have adopted me and shown me loads of local trails whilst all being incredibly patient.  I think they like me because they get lots of photos of me and my bike lying on the ground (see below).  I couldn't do this without all of the encouragement and support everyone above has given.  I am indebted to you all.

I'm not defeated, I will be good at this.  I don't flow, I brake too much and I don't trust that I can get over things, but I'm a lot better than I was a year ago.  I will work until I can ride black trails no matter how often or how hard I crash.  I will learn to jump.  I will not stop.  I will never stop.

How did this happen?