Ups and Downs

Today has been a tiring one. A day of ups and downs.

I got up around 6:30 this morning because I needed to get to the gym.

One of the ways that I've being dealing with losing Rhys has been sport.

Just before Rhys died I promised him that last year I would completed the London Marathon and every one of the Outlaw triathlons. I managed to keep the first pat of that promise and got around the London Marathon in six and a half hours. A lack of training and one of the hotest race days on record didn't help but I crossed the line. And so did Rhys.

After Rhys died we kept some of the ashes from his cremation and had jewellery made containing some of his ashes. As I ran round London I was wearing the pendant I have with his ashes. Wearing it gave me the strength I needed to keep going, and after I saw Tracey, my sister Annette and her daighters Jess and Charlotte at around mile 22, I found the energy to get me and Rhys to the finishing line. Shedding many tears as I did.

The other races simply fell apart after I crashed out on the bike leg of the first Outlaw triathlon I did. The other races just didn't happen and it's what led to me crashing and burning last year, what led to me asking one of the GPs at my doctors' surgery for anti-depressants, what led to me handing over a large number of painkillers that I'd planned to take, and what led to me seeking bereavement counselling.

Around September/October last year I decided I was going to try again with the triathlons and sought out a coach. The only way I was going to achieve my aim was if I had someone to hold me accountable with my training.

And it's worked.

As my training has progressed it's become more and more consistent. I still have a long way to go, but I'm confident that I'll get through the 4 middle distance triathlons I've entered this year and then be in a good position to retry all of the Outlaw triathlons in 2020.

So this morning found me at the gym undertaking a Functional Threshold Power bike test. 20 minutes warm up then 20 minutes of seriously hard work.

But finishing it and seeing that I'd improved, even if only a little bit made it all worth while.

The rest of the day has been tiring. I lay on the bed for 2 hours after having a shower, and dozed off for most of that.

But my mood was positive and I felt really good.

Yesterday, I finished a project I started, just after Rhys died, and finally ordered a proof copy of a photo book I'd been developing. A book that told the story of his last months.

So my mood has been really positive.

Tonight though, a combination of red wine and a few other things have started me coming down from that high. It's the silly things that are the worst. You know that they don't mean anything but they still hit you harder than you expect, still cause you to feel sad and depressed.

And sad and depressed is something that is very easy to feel, when you've lost a child and the pain is still raw.

The small things are the ones that trigger the tears. Like finding Rhys' diary and finding some of the things he'd written in it, or finding items that belonged to him that suddenly bring back memories, which start tears flowing.

At New Year I had to drive up to my sister's in Northampton to take some of the Christmas presents they couldn't fit in their car to them. It's a trip I've done many times over the years.

This time, though, was the first time I'd been up there since Rhys died. The last time I was driving along that road was when we went to Silverstone for the British Grand Prix, and then afterwards to the Mercedes Petronas factory at Brackley so that Rhys could have a tour of the facilities. Driving through the area, tears poured from my eyes and the sadness hit me hard.

Even though it's nearly 18 months since Rhys died there are still going to be firsts that I find myself doing, and the pain will hit me, and the tears will flow once again.

Tomorrow is another day, and I'll get out of bed, make Tracey a cup of tea, see her off to work and then get ready for work myself. If I'm lucky it will be a good day, if I'm not then it will be another day where I take a deep breath before I walk out the front door to face the world, another day where I plaster on a smile and drag myself through it until I get home, have food, and am able to go to bed and close my eyes and put the waking nightmare that is losing my son behind me for a few hours of blissful unconsciousness.