Skip to content

Month: June 2014

Missing in Action

Posted in Journalism

Apologies readers, it’s been a couple of months since I’ve blogged. There has been no miring in the depths of non-functioning despair but I’ve been busy in a good way. Work has taken off, getting writing and photography published and cycling a twenty-eight mile commute to get to a fresh newsdesk for freeelance shift work. It hasn’t all been slaving away, so no worries there. Certainly, I’m not looking inside the fridge puzzling about how to make food so I’m moving fowards.

It’s not easy, there are blips with my mood and having to learn about how it manifests every day and watch with vigilance. That is exhausting but I can’t change it. However, I didn’t pop on here to write about my own mental health.

This morning, I went for a run. This hasn’t happened since 2009 when I was training for a cycle race (which I didn’t manage to do due to coming down with the dreaded swineflu). Running evangelism isn’t my shtick, I’m a much more effective cyclist than a runner and I doubt this will change, even with considered and planned training. However, I wanted to get the blood pumping, my heart rate rising and push myself with a short burst.

Near where I live, there’s a wonderful common stretching across several green miles like an antidote to urban sprawls. Naturally, I ran past suburban houses towards the softer grass. Sun hitting my back, warming me up, I was suprised about how much easier it was to run, I suppose cycling huge miles has something to do with it. Slicing through the grass brushing against my shins, building up sweat, I run towards the wooded area. This little patch smells earthy from years of autumnal leaves as my trainers strike the woodchip and matured ground; then a clean scent rises, fresh and verdant. Soon, I come through the shaded trees back out into the sun’s heat. The still tall grass separated by well worn paths, waves lazily, touched by a light breeze. I do a small loop in the common and turn round heading home.

It’s something small but changes come from the minute gaining momentum. Whatever those victories are that make you feel alive are worth every waking moment. They make the darker, harder ones tolerable.