Admitting defeat

It's not easy for me to say. I'm a perfectionist and I really don't like letting people down. This horrible guilt sits on my chest, the pressure to be perfect comes from within and no one in my life expects more of me than I do.

With all the craziness going on in my life over the last three months I've not been able to run as much as I needed to prepare for the Brighton half marathon. So... I've had to postpone my place until next year. Totally gutted. A month ago I told myself I wouldn't let it stop me, and that if I gave up on this then I'd give up on other things and this year would be full of closed opportunities. But that's not what it's about. It's about understanding my mental health, and accepting that sometimes it is totally debilitating.

All the donations made so far will carry over to next year, so all is not lost. I wish my head had been in a different space and that I'd felt well enough to run but it's felt totally out of my control up until very recently when I've been able to be more pro-active about addressing the current problems in my life. I wish I'd felt well enough to run, but that's not the case and I can't beat myself up about it. Leaving the house has been hard enough, let alone running 10K+ each week. And that's okay. If I had a physical injury I wouldn't be so hard on myself about pulling out, sure I'd be disappointed but I wouldn't berate myself or worry what people think of me. 

If you've sponsored me so far, thank you so much. I appreciate your encouragement and as soon as I'm able to run another event for them I will, and the money already raised will still go directly to Scope.

Storm Imogen

Finally something with my name on it! When I was growing up I was desperate to find pens, mugs, headbands, literally anything with my name on it. To my utter delight I found out this evening that storm Imogen was set to bring a turbulent start to the week. Damn straight.

Quite recently the grief over my six year relationship ending has morphed into anger, and it's... interesting.

It's new to me. Now that my teenage years are behind me, I can't really say I'm ever angry. I just don't  feel things in that way. I become impassioned, sure, but never angry. But now that I'm done crying I'm filled with this unquenchable rage. It feels like someone has lit a fire in my belly that can't be doused. I wake up in the morning and feel it rise in me. Hot, sharp, uncontrollable anger. The kind where an angry little voice inside my head shouts obscenities and chips away at my sanity.

I've been trying to find a better outlet for it (better than pizza and gin), so if you have any suggestions send them my way. In the mean time I'm going to try channel some of this negative energy in the gym this week, and write more. Angry haiku's anyone?

I should have punched you
hard in the bollocks when I
still had the chance to.

Fuck you. You're a dick.
I wish you'd just say sorry
and read my letter.

I deserve someone
who wants me more than they want
protein shakes and weights.

A favourite moment:
It snowed, I threw a snowball.
Caught you in the nuts.

The words that shaped me

I've always grown up around books. Dusty. Old. New. First editions. Shelves of them. Piles. Library lends. Dogeared. Re-read. Half-finished. Out of print. Banned. Gifted. Borrowed from friends.

It's no secret, I love books.

And each book you read shapes you. It leaves a little dent in your mind that says, 'I was here, remember me.'

The words I've read have changed me, for better or worse, opened up a little part of me I never knew existed. Taught me how to be, and how not to be. The differences between people.

So I thought I'd share with you the books that up until this point have left a mark on me. Obviously this will change over the years, but here, now, these are the books I have loved and let move me:

The one that taught me how to love: I Heard God Laughing - Hafiz 

The one that changed my mind about my mind: The Happiness Trap - Russ Harris

The one that made me feel a little less alone: Jane Eyre - Charlotte Brontë

The one that reminded me that limitation is all in the mind: Born to Run - Christopher McDougall

The one that helped me appreciate my sister: Little Women - Louisa May Alcott

The one that bit me with the travel bug: Eat, Pray, Love - Elizabeth Gilbert

Which books have left a little mark on you?