So, the training is going well. The miles are ramping up, slowly but steadily. Still with plenty of strength work, stretching and some speed sessions. I'm doing something everyday. The knee is holding up (although there's an annoying ache which seems to come and go unexpectedly, and not related to what the session before had in stock). I've got some new friends to help guide me though: I look a right muppet carrying these poles around but they're light, sturdy and help take the load from my knees on hills and provide some forwards propulsion on the flat. When running 1030 miles I've got to be efficient with the load on my legs by spreading the forces around the rest of my body as much as I can. The clip is for some gloves to hook into, by the way. I can't decide if they remind me of Beaker or a rooster? . See if you can spot the odd one out from the selfies below. One's taken on an early run on Christmas Day, before the t...
So what's that other charity I'll be fundraising for?
I find it difficult to write about this. It is something I've hidden for many years. I had severe ulcerative colitis in my mid 20's and needed my large bowel (or colon) removing. I had a replumbing operation 6 months later called an ileoanal pouch. Only my nearest and dearest or those that knew me at the time when it all happened know.
It was when I was making the decision whether to do the LEJOG run that I had a light bulb moment. It was this that was stopping me. Not the physical challenge itself (although daunting). My catastrophising mind asks how could I share a room with someone I don't know for 5 weeks, with my frequent and explosive ablutions, knowing that if I can't relax, the converse happens and I become a one man abdominal pressure cooker/washing machine, ready to blow? How can I manage to fuel myself during my run, knowing that if I eat anything it immediately makes me want to go to the loo and can be excruciatingly painful with all that jiggling up and down? How can I can stay hydrated when exerting myself for so long when the very thing that reabsorbs all the fluid in my gut is missing?
It is nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed of and what better way of banishing it as a barrier than outing it and normalising it and giving hope and inspiration to others who have a pouch or are about to go through the operation. Life goes on. So that is why I've linked up with the Ileostomy and Internal Pouch Association. We're going to be working on some projects over the months to raise awareness, funds and hope.
Don't get me wrong, it's all been fine and I will cope. The barriers I describe are real but blown out of proportion in my mind - but when something is stopping you doing things you want to do, it's time to address it.
I've probably overshared, not just on this post but throughout my blog, for which I was going to apologise. But I'm not. I'm not sorry at all.
If you feel inspired, please donate to IA (Ileostomy and Internal Pouch Association), the national charity whose primary aim is to support people who need surgery for an ileostomy or internal pouch. IA provides specialist support and guidance through its trained volunteers, telephone helpline, extensive range of literature, and social media.
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