Starting again

November has been a grueling month for us.  At the start of the month we had to say goodbye to our beautiful old cat, Lilo.  Her decline was quite sudden and although we are fortunate that her passing was as gentle and dignified as we could have wished for, our hearts are broken.  We were emotionally and physically exhausted, that final week being characterized by fear, stress, brief flashes of hope when she appeared to be perking up a little and despair when we realised our hopes were in vain.  The countdown to the inevitable, the thing we have been dreading for the past few years, trying to prepare ourselves for but not being able to, was one of the most harrowing weeks of our lives.  Then the emptiness afterwards, the self-questioning, the guilt - all completely natural parts of the grief process and not a sign that we hadn't done the right thing.  We knew that we had done what was right for Lilo, even though we ached to cuddle her again.  Running helped a little.  I even ran my fastest parkrun in ages simply because I wanted some physical pain to distract from all the emotional pain.  I pushed through the discomfort in a way that normally I wouldn't. 

Unfortunately, a couple of days after Lilo's passing, Life decided that the agony of grieving wasn't enough to be getting on with and sent us a bout of flu as well.  I know people sometimes talk about 'flu' when what they really mean is a really savage cold (and no, it's not just men who do this), but this was real flu.  I've only had real flu a couple of times in my life and I'd forgotten how it completely floors you.  I had a horrible fever and was in bed for 3 days.  At first I told myself that I would use the time to do some reading, but it quickly became apparent that reading wasn't an option due to the fact that I couldn't keep my eyes open.  All I could do was lie there and hope for sleep.  In some ways it was probably a good thing to feel so bad because it stopped me thinking about Lilo.  I couldn't really think about anything at all.  I was completely and utterly out of it.  Once the fever had gone I was able to get up again and potter around the house. I had the most unrelenting cough though, so I was utterly exhausted.  

So much for me running my way through bereavement!  It took me a week before I was even capable of going for a short, achy walk.  A few days later I decided to try a run.  It was very slow, but I managed 5K without a coughing fit, so that was encouraging.  My pace was rubbish, as I'd expected.  It was lovely to be out again though and as I ran through the woods I was rewarded with a deer sighting, always a magical thing for me.  

Then Rory and I went for a healing weekend away in the Staffordshire Peak District.  We stayed in a lovely remote cottage with fabulous views.  We met the Airbnb owner's friendly cat, who came round for a cuddle, which we found comforting and we visited a very unusual but fascinating exhibition about the history of the water closet.  We also headed to Pavilion Gardens parkrun in Buxton for a spot of tourism on the Saturday, a beautiful park which was looking extremely autumnal.  It's fairly flat and in ordinary circumstances I think I would be capable of a good time on that route.  However, I found it a struggle.  By the end of the 1st lap I was already knackered and overheating and it took all my stamina to keep going.  I finished in 27.18 which, whilst not that bad, is one of my slower times this year.  Since the flu, my comfortable running pace had become my 'pushing to the brink of death' pace.  Anyway, slow or not, it was still progress. 

Another week has gone by and I'm still progressing.  My pace is still not what it was, but I can see improvements.  At Huddersfield parkrun on Saturday I managed to break 27 which I was thrilled with.  I just need to keep things going and I'm sure I will regain my fitness eventually.

Of course, getting well again has meant more time to think about Lilo and I'm still incredibly sad.  I still find it hard to sit in the parts of the house where she used to go and it will be a long time before I will be able to look at all my precious photos of her.  It just feels like a light has gone out.  Perhaps it's natural that the passing of my longest serving cat - she reached the grand age of 18 - should hit me particularly hard.  It's difficult to remember a time when we didn't have her.  She was with us through so much.  I have no enthusiasm for Christmas at all.  In fact, I'm actually dreading it.  It's always a hugely emotional time of the year for me and I can see it being even more so this year.  But the one thing that does keep me sane at that time of the year is Christmas running and I'm really hoping that the weather doesn't interfere with the festive parkruns or the Winter Solstice night run I have entered on the 22nd December.  Fingers crossed.

I've always held the view that being happy is about noticing the small things, the fleeting moments of pleasure, not about chasing after some big elusive permanent state of contentment.  This morning's run along the Trans Pennine Trail to the Magic Wood, was cold and frosty and beautiful. It was one of those fleeting bits of happiness to grab.  When I got home I put food out for the birds and watched them flock to the garden, something that gives me comfort at the moment because I don't just miss Lilo but I also miss the routine of caring for her.  (I still have my boy cat, Charlie, who I love to bits, but somehow the feeding routine seems like it's over too quickly now I just have one cat to feed.  I put the food down and he's wolfed it down in less than 5 minutes.  With Lilo I was always having to administer tablets, mash up the food, offer it until she wandered off, then offer it again a few minutes later.)  Having birds to feed makes me feel like I have another caring role,an extension to the breakfast routine, and that's important to me right now.

Just a few days and we're into December.  I've not signed up for the Marcothon this year or any of these 'run up to Christmas' type challenges.  I don't want to put pressure on myself by having some challenge that I 'must' do every day, but I hope I'll be able to enjoy some seasonal running in my Santa leggings, treating myself to a coffee and a mini mince pie at my favourite coffee shop afterwards.  It's the little things.