Since April, I’ve been walking a tough road, one that’s tested me in ways I never thought I’d face. I’ve struggled deeply with my mental health, leading to three hospitalizations because I didn’t feel like I could keep going. Saying that out loud—or writing it—is hard, but it’s important. If I’m going to share my story, I need to share the whole picture, not just the polished version.
The truth is, I’m getting better, but I’m not there yet. I’m learning that recovery isn’t linear. Some days feel lighter; others, like I’m back at the bottom of the hill. But progress is progress, no matter how small.
Running Through Treacle
Running has been a part of my life for so long—it’s my escape, my therapy, my “me time.” But since April, it’s felt like everything I love about running has been turned upside down. Getting out the door feels like climbing a mountain. When I do run, it feels like I’m moving through treacle—heavy legs, erratic breathing, and a mental fog that makes every step feel like a chore.
Most of my runs are short now, under 5km, and I often find myself needing to walk. That used to feel like failure. Now I’m trying to see it as part of the process. Every run, even the tough ones, is a step toward feeling more like myself again.
London Marathon Looming
In just five months, I’m supposed to run the London Marathon. It’s a dream I’ve been chasing for years, but right now, that dream feels overwhelming. I can’t help but think about where I was a year ago—running 5km without a second thought, feeling strong, confident, and ready to take on any distance.
Now? Even thinking about a long run makes my chest tighten. I know this is temporary, and I know I’ll get stronger. But patience has never been my strong suit, and I can’t help but wish I could fast-forward through this tough patch.
The Road Ahead
So where does that leave me? In a place of acceptance, I suppose. I need to remind myself that it’s okay to be where I am right now. Running doesn’t always have to be about achieving new goals or hitting faster times. Sometimes, it’s just about showing up—lacing up my shoes, taking a step outside, and letting my body move, no matter how it feels.
The marathon is still on the horizon, and I’m not giving up on it. But for now, my focus isn’t on the finish line. It’s on the next step, the next run, the next small victory.
A Reminder to Myself—and to You
If you’re reading this and feeling a bit like I am—stuck, frustrated, or overwhelmed—know that you’re not alone. We all have seasons when things feel harder than they should, when the things we love feel just out of reach. But these moments don’t define us.
I believe it will get easier. I believe I’ll find my rhythm again, both in running and in life. And if I can hold on to that belief, even when it’s hard, then I know I’ll be okay.
Thanks for sticking with me on this journey. Writing this post has been a reminder that there’s strength in sharing, and that every step—no matter how small—is a step forward.
Here’s to patience, persistence, and the power of putting one foot in front of the other.