Letting go

Running is a curious past-time, because at it's simplest form it requires little skill there is an assumption that it will be easy - it isn't - but it is addictive, or at least it can be.  On a good day the hard effort pails into insignificance as the endorphin rush that follows the run blocks any pain and causes feelings of euphoria akin to a dose of morphine. On a really good day these feelings take hold whilst running and in your head you are suddenly invincible, ready to conquer the world.  On many other days your mojo is nowhere to be seen and yet still you lace up your shoes and head out, come rain, shine or snow in the knowledge that one day it will return, you just have to keep at it - regularly.

In an attempt to build some much needed continuity at the start of this year, I devised the 20/20 challenge for 2020.  To walk 20 miles or 20 km and run 20 miles or 20 km each week.  Last week was the first week I ran over 20 miles, this Sunday was to see me complete 20 consecutive weeks - Whoop! Whoop! Go me! Except that yesterday drifting along, awash with mid and post run euphoric bliss, I lost concentration, let Dougal tug on his lead and turned my ankle - game over.  Not so indestructible after all.

I'm gutted.  It was all going so well.  Except perhaps for the pain I've been ignoring just below my left knee knowing that when I did eventually google it (and self diagnose as pes anserine (knee tendon) bursitis) the treatment would be to rest.  I had started to have conversations with myself about stopping at the end of this week for a break but clearly the Universe didn't trust me and took matters out of my hands or, perhaps in this instance, feet.  Acknowledging when it's time to let go and actually doing something about it isn't easy, little did I know that I'd be doing it twice this week.

Two years ago, whilst studying surface pattern design, I was assigned the task of setting up a brand identity to market myself under.  All options seemed to lead to other people except when I googled the names of our dogs - which lead straight back to them and their fleeting careers on YouTube.  Before long Dougal and Sid was born, I bought the domain name and, with the invaluable help of my elder son, set up a website. A year later, in what now seems like an inexplicable burst of optimism, I set up a dormant company to protect the name for when I made the big time.  

But rather then fuelling me on, I have spent much of the time between then and now tussling with how to get what was originally set up for one purpose fit with the direction that I now find myself travelling: I have a website that is out of date, a blog under a different identity, a limited company that I can't ever see myself using and so many passwords and login details to make my brain ache!  My recent delve into the fiances has highlighted the associated costs of my dreams and a decision about when to cut my losses was looming, along with the anticipated subsequent feelings of failure.

Enter my younger son.  Currently unable to attend his drama company in person, the social distancing measures have given the group an opportunity to work with different media and in the case of my son, discover an interest and talent for film making.  Thus when a conversation arose about a name for him to produce his work under, what began as a throw away comment resulted in the decision to hand the mantle of the future of 'Dougal and Sid' over to him.  

For years, a fear of failure has stopped me from moving forward, but now that I'm here I am surprised to discover that what I am actually faced with is a feeling of freedom.  An opportunity to be discerning about the bits that worked, and steer myself towards more of those, whilst no longer being weighed down by the sense of dragging the bits that didn't along behind me, permanently trying to join dots that just didn't make a picture.  What a wonderful place to be.  And how opportune perhaps that instead of pounding the streets in chase of some arbitrary fitness goal awaiting the feel good factor to kick in, I'm going to get to sit with my feet up for a few days whilst I contemplate where I want to head to next, watching with wonder as H takes my past dream to places I hadn't even begun to imagine.

In the words of TS Eliot, lovingly quoted by Mr L on my birthday....

Time for you and time for me,

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

And for a hundred visions and revisions,

Before the taking of a toast and tea.