And breathe...

The last few weeks I've been dealing with a cold, just like everybody else that I know. It's sapped my energy, left me feeling tired and made my triathlon training less than consistent.

It also left me with time to move furniture around in the house as well as getting rid of some wardrobes and cupboards, and put together the replacement wardrobes.

Work has also made life a little more challenging because I've had to do a bit of travelling. Manchester, Hull so far, and London next week. Still it breaks things up and makes work that little bit more interesting. It also allows me to do things that help make life a little bit easier for others.

This weekend I managed to get in some consistent triathlon training. Yesterday was a 45 minutes run and today a double brick session; basically 30 minutes on the bike followed by a 15 minute run (repeated twice).

Next week I've got a lot of training to try and fit in around my trip to London. I'm hoping that I'll be able to get eveything done, although I'm not looking forward to next Sunday's mini brick session; a.k.a. doing the 30 minute bike/15 minute run three times and not just twice.

When I moved the furniture around the chest of drawers that we in Rhys' bedroom ended up in the main bedroom, all of the toy cars as well as other things that had been on top of his wardrobe ended up in the main room too. Placed on top of his chest of drawers. Almost like a shrine to him. This evening my other half decided that some things were going on top of the new wardrobe we put together for her yesterday. This included a number of the cars.

I don't have the energy to pursuade her to leave things where they are. As I sit here typing this I can hear her moving things around, in a bit I'll go and look see what she's done. I expect I'll be feeling sad after I see what she's done.

We've got rid of things that belong to Rhys since he died. We've moved stuff around, not kept things the same. It would have been very easy to keep his room exactly as it was before he died but that would have meant never using it again. Moving things around doesn't mean that we can't have reminders of Rhys around the house, putting the cars and things on top of the chest of drawers was my way of doing that, the same as having a card he used when I did the London Marathon stuck up on the wall of his bedroom. They are things that remind me of him and bring me comfort, I like being able to walk into a room and see something of his, it's almost like he's still around.

When I moved the furniture around I moved the computer desk and other cupboards in the box room I've been using as an office/study into Rhys' bedroom. It is bigger so it made sense to do it but it also means that I can spend time in Rhys' room, the room where he slept and spent time watching TV and playing games, without anyone questioning it. It's just one more way to be closer to him. It's a place I can slow down and catch my breath.

Still becoming vulnerable

Today, I had a counselling session. We talked about a lot but as usual I deflected a lot. Even after so many weeks of counselling I have to admit that opening myself and becoming vulnerable is seriously scary. Thinking about why I find it scary isn't easier either but I did eventually give it some thought.


Vulnerable.

Why do I not want to be open with people, especially my counsellor? Why do I deflect things?

When I was young the thought of living for 70 or more years, scared me. I couldn't imagin living that long on my own. I didn't want to live that long.

Then Rhys came along and life didn't seem so scary, life seemed worthwhile, life had a real purpose and wasn't just going to work and doing meaningless stuff outsid work.

I finally had a reason to live.

So why do I deflect?

I think I deflect because I've never really found my purpose in life and facing up to that is something I don't want to do.

I think I deflect because I'm afraid that if I answered honestly I don't know what I would say, I don't know what emotions I'd open myself up to. I don't want to risk opening myself up to emotions that I won't be able to control or deal with.

I also think that if I didn't deflect I would find myself learning too much about who I am and I might not like who that person is. I might find that person is cold and emotionless.

I've worn a mask for so long now that I don't want to take it off for fear of who I might see.

Triathlon training

One of the things that you will come across that's related to depression is that exercise can help.

The adrenaline and endorphins kick in and help to give you a bit of a high.

I've found that dong training sessions does help with my mood, especially if it turns out to be a good one, I run faster, or manage to produce more power when I'm cycling, or swim just that more lengths or the same number but in a slightly quicker time.The satisfaction of achieving something bolsters that high feeling.

Recently I had a 30 minute run session planned. Once I was out the door and running I felt good and strong, so good and strong that when I hit the last mile of my run I didn't realise it but I was almost flying. At least compared to my pace in the last few years. When I got home and uploaded my run data and looked at it online I found that I'd managed to run the last mile in under 10 minutes. Something I've not done for a long time.

Every achievement like that reinforces the knowledge that I'm improving because of the training, because it's consistent and because I have a coach who is setting me sessions that push me just enough to get me where I'm aiming for.

Still there are days when the loss of Rhys hits me hard and I find it so difficult to get out the door. My old, pre-coach, habits start to come back and I put off a session, making up an excuse or using the flimsiest of reasons why I've not done it.

I always know the real reason why I don't do these sessions though. It's because I don't have the mental energy I need to get out the door. I don't have the mental strength to put on my running or cycling kit, to pack a bag with my swimming gear.

These are the bad days.

These are the days I really should be saying to myself "No, get that bag packed, put that kit on, get yourself out the door and do the session". I know that even if the session doesn't lift my mood, physically I will be doing something to strengthen my body, to increase my fitness and to move me another step along the path to achieving the goals I've set myself.

I'm not one to go for the easy option so this year I have four middle distance triathlons scheduled. Next year I plan on racing two middle distance (possibly 3 and maybe 4, depending on whether the race organisers put on the new race their doing this year, and launch the one that they were planning for last year), and then there's the long distance or Ironman distance race I'm planning on finally completing.

I'm not going to be the fastest person racing, I'm more likely to be at the tail end of the competitors crossing the line, but that doesn't matter. It's getting over that start line, and one way or another getting across the finish line that matters to me. I'm not challenging anyone but myself. I'm not aiming to go down the finish shoot and cross the finish line but for myself and Rhys. I know that Rhys will be there with me, whether I'm carrying his ashes in the pendant I have across the finish line or whether it's in spirit in the same way as he physically ran down the finish shoot at Outlaw Half: Nottingham many years ago.