I’m a Runner

As the time draws nearer to the anniversary of that day the same feelings return to the pit of my stomach. It’s peculiar as I don’t so much think about the actual accident itself, the memories that shadow my thoughts now are of the days after. The look on friends and families faces when they came to visit, the fear in my sons’ eyes, the inability to scoop them up and cuddle them and promise that it would all be ok. Will the memories ever fade? Will I ever get to a point that the day will pass and I won’t remember? The boys have no recollection of the aftermath of Mummy living in the front room or of Nicholas (the cage), Charleigh’s memories have become faded with time, for these facts I am grateful as their minds are so young and pure and I don’t want them filled with bad, only the good.

I sometimes think that only I will ever remember the true moments from that time. Perhaps a little part of me will always be filled with it, but I will learn to keep that door closed.

I am determined to use this frustrated energy though and put it to good and not let is turn into a wasted emotion. I think we are all capable of directing our emotions onto a path of our own choosing. Our destiny is ours to make of what we will.

It is true that that time is a healer and despite the door to the dark side being slightly ajar at present, I can see the positives that have come out of something awful and I will try and focus on those.

The main positive being my desire to run. My training is well under way for the half marathon madness that I signed up for! I am stronger, physically and mentally, than I ever thought possible. I am learning to push myself to limits I once only ever thought would be out of reach.
These legs, despite the lumps, bumps and metal, are doing me proud.
James and I took part in the London Winter 10km run last weekend as part of my training plan. Surrounded by the beautiful sights of London down at South Bank, polar bears offering hugs (I kid you not) and the cold, cold air, we set off. I wanted to complete it in 55 minutes – a target that meant I had to push myself harder than ever before. At 5km the cold was hurting, at 7km I wasn’t even convinced I would finish the course and a 9km I knew I wouldn’t stop. With the encouragement of James next to me, my amazing trainer’s (the actual person, not my footwear!) voice in my head ‘think results’ and with a deep determination I didn’t even realise I had,  I completed it in 54:40.
I shed tears of absolute happiness at the end and traveled home on a cloud of delight (with a well-earned Costa Coffee in hand!). I do have a confession though, at the end of the 10km a realisation hit me that when it came to the half marathon I would in theory have to run that again. To say I was a little struck by fear would be an accurate description. How on earth am I ever going to run 13 miles? Although this time last year I wouldn’t have even been able to run 5km let alone 10km so things can only get better. I won’t use the work ‘easier’ as there is nothing easy about this. My legs are not what they were, there is weakness and metal that aggravates – but they are the only ones I have so I can either give in to ache, or fight and work against in the desire to succeed. (medical disclaimer : I am not doing anything that will cause me injury, if at any point there was pain other than that caused by hard work I wouldn’t push it, I am being sensible)

So happy! x

So happy! x

Well earned sit down :)

Well earned sit down 🙂

Told you ;)

Told you 😉

I am lucky to have had people come into my life because of this journey, some of whom I wouldn’t have got through some very dark days without. The internet gets bad press but without it I wouldn’t have found support in strangers when I most needed to connect with someone who knew exactly what I was going through. I know I have mentioned it in a previous blog but I would have been lost without the people I talked to who had the Ilizarov frame at the same time as me. From the USA, South Africa, UK – you helped me when I felt alone, angry, fearful, sad …. I am looking forward to meeting up with (some of) the Ilizarov Forum crew this weekend – you guys all rock!

Sometimes I forget that that there are actually people out there reading this. This is just my little therapeutic bubble, so I am still a little shocked when I get a response from someone other than friends or family. I received a lovely email recently from a lady who is on her own journey and facing battles that I only know too well.

To think that my words and my journey may help someone just a little is truly overwhelming.

It’s All About The Shoes.

11 days short of 17 months later and I did the ‘never thought I’d do it again’ ……
I squeezed my swollen feet, balanced on my not so strong ankles and I actually did it. I wore heels.
Not dainty little kitten heels, no, real, proper, high to the clouds make me 6 feet tall heels. It was my birthday celebrations at Ascot and I simply wanted to feel glamorous. Over the past year I have been to numerous weddings, christenings and other joyous celebrations, always with pristine hair and makeup (well, as pristine as I can make it), pretty nails, shiny hair, but always flat shoes. Even at five months pregnant with twins I was in heels. I don’t even need them for my height, being 5ft 6 I’m plenty tall enough. However I enjoy wearing heels. They make me feel feminine and when in a posh frock I need heels. I suppose the age old saying ‘ you always want what you cannot have’ rings true. Perhaps if I wasn’t such a fan of feet numbing shoes, and believe me, my toes were numb, then it wouldn’t have bothered me as much. But totter down the road, over then grass and across the concourse I did and I loved every second of it. I didn’t care that I could no longer feel my toes, my ankles were swollen and I could feel muscles working in my thighs and my calves that I didn’t know I had, I felt totally and utterly womanly.
Six hours I lasted until I gave in and returned my sorry feet to the boring flats, but even so it wasn’t the fault of my inability to wear my beloved heels, it was all down to standing on a hill. That’s my excuse anyway and one that I will stick to.
When I first had my accident and I found myself awake in the early hours one morning trying to come to terms with the metal contraption attached my my leg, and with the internet at my fingertips on my new iPad, I felt the need to try and connect with people who knew the same fear that I was feeling, who would actually understand. I turned to the fountain of all worldly knowledge. Google.  After finding some rather peculiar things I came across a forum, a fixator forum just for people like me. In my first post I poured my heart out and anxiously waited for someone, anyone to reply.
And from across the globe in came a reply,
From behind my screen my world suddenly opened up to a group of people I now consider friends. I may not have met all of these people in the flesh, but we have bared our souls to each other, shared our deepest fears and cried together.
As it is now we are all frame free, but we still face fears and daemons that only we understand. I am very  lucky to be surrounded by friends and family in my life as I sit here on my sofa, but I also feel extremely lucky to have friends at my very fingertips whenever I need them.
The great thing about friendship is it’s not always about holding out your hand or the time you have been together, it’s the spiritual inspiration that that person gives you. The fact that they give you the ability to believe in yourself, to give you the strength to face your fears.