Losing My Religion

This is not a post to spark religious debate. So please, if you're reading it, don't try to start one. Thanks. Sorry if this sounds stompy, it's just I have seen how these things tend to degenerate, and I don't want people falling out on my blog :-)

I don't really believe in God. I believe in Jesus, yes, he existed, he was a great bloke, did many impressive and wonderful things. I also believe in the spirit of love and goodwill that Christianity embues. I just don't really believe in some being floating above in the ether somewhere.

My sort-of-religion is my asthma control.

It's something I've really had to work on over the last few years. It's taken me a long time to really get to know my asthma; to learn how to work with it, rather than against it; when I can battle on regardless and when I really do have to take notice rather than just judiciously ignoring it. Something I have taken very great care over is an almost religious routine of taking my meds every morning and every evening, and making sure I'm taking them in the optimum fashion to maximise the benefits I can gain from them. So yes, I still look like I'm about 12, because I use a large-volume spacer with my MDIs; this is because large-volume spacers ensure the greatest possible drug delivery to the lungs. If I'm going to take time to take my inhalers, I may as well get the greatest returns from them.

People sometimes tell me that they can forget to take their preventative inhalers & tablets. I don't. I can't. If I don't take my routine meds then I start feeling rotton pretty quickly. And that really gets on my wick, big time. Waking up in the night, feeling tight, just ruins your sleep (and I do love my sleep). Coughing your way through morning surgery isn't much fun. And not being able to run really does get me narked.

So I've been pretty narked the last few weeks. I had a slight sniffle when I ran the Brum half, which pretty quickly developed into a rip-roaring flu-type illness; I bimbled around the Uni of Brum 5K because I really wanted to, but there was absolutely no chance of me going faster than the 29min I managed alongside Vixx, and I felt rough for days. Truth be told, I really shouldn't have done that race. Common sense prevailed and I pulled out of the Cov half, because I was really rather concerned there may have been an episode of Completely Inadequate Ventilation.

Since then, I have been a) recovering and b) studiously avoiding going for a run, whilst c)simultaneously being frustrated about not going for a run. Studiously avoiding, because I knew the first run back would be hard work, with a battle against the Truculant Twins being on the cards. But I knew it was a step that I needed to take - running really does help with my asthma control, and I need to get that edge back. So I had to face the psychological hurdle head on; it's a bit like having to tear a plaster off a wound. You know it's going to sting like hell, but it's got to be done.

It's difficult to describe the sensation of the internal battle whilst you're running with asthma. The result certainly makes you feel like someone's been pummelling you lightly in the lower-to-middle-rib area. All I know is that, with some hefty encouragement from Vixx early on Saturday morning, I managed around 5 miles of running (the last mile walk-running) at a pace I've not seen on my watch since about a year ago, and a level of breathlessness I'd nearly forgotten. I'm not quite sure what's gone so wrong - I had longer off running during the summer, and didn't feel quite so grotty on my return as this weekend.

In a similar way to any religion, it's most difficult to keep the faith when times get rough; it's just hanging in there and waiting for things to get better that's the challenge. I've got to keep going; I've already committed to AUK to run the marathon again for them next year. I've also got a half marathon coming up in just under four weeks; this is what's really worrying me at the moment, based on Saturday's "performance". Psychologically I've got to put that behind me and move forwards; the only way I'll do that, though, is by going for another run. And that's a separate challenge of its very own.