OPINION PIECE - I'm running again. "But when and why did you stop?" Now, this is a story all about how my life got "flip-turned" upside down. No, I'm just kidding, I'm not the Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, but it is the story of how I felt I was losing myself.
When lockdown Level 4 came into effect I was one of the first people out on the road in my running gear, taking full advantage of the three hours a day we were granted to be out and about and exercise. Heck, I was so chuffed with myself I was gushing about it wherever I could (I hope you remember my column).
Boy, was I committed and determined to run! I had told myself I'll run every second day, and within three weeks I had covered 52km (to be fair, this isn't much compared to the SERIOUS runners) and I felt good. I felt fit, I felt happy and energetic, like everything was rejuvenated.
But then I missed my 11th run on its due date. And I missed the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that. Before I knew it, I had relapsed. I had succumbed to lockdown laziness – much as one would to a drug addiction – and I was fully aware of it.
My mind made sure to remind me I was being a lazy punk and neglecting my obligation (to myself) that I would run every second day. But just to spice things up, my mind also told me that it's okay.
"It's okay to be lazy for a few days, you earned it," my mind would say. Then another part of my mind would be telling me, "Okay, tomorrow's the day we are going to run again." I would wake up, kill my alarm and go back to sleep.
I dismissed my alarm and I dismissed the battle going on in my mind. I hated it. The feeling that I was slipping, failing myself. Last week I wrote about humanity and how I was moved by what I saw at the various soup kitchens around Knysna. I think that feeling in part helped get me back on the road again, because in the midst of this constant mental tug-of-war there was one recurring thought: was I about to rehash my experience of early lockdown melancholy?
This led me to thinking of lyrics from an Eminem song off of his Revival album. While the general public didn't particularly enjoy this album, I did. It was emotive, deep and thought-provoking. The song was In Your Head, and while it encapsulated Eminem's personal battles within the rap fraternity and his fight against relapsing and using drugs again, I found myself applying certain lines to my state of mind: "What's tomorrow like? 'Cause tonight I'm startin' life again … I try to look alive but there's nothin' like holdin' your head up high when you're dead inside … It seems to be the reoccurring main theme".
Now, some of this may sound extreme. But that's what it felt like. It felt like I was losing a handle on myself, I could feel that I had gained weight, I could feel that I was growing more and more lethargic. And that's not me. I am energetic, I am fit, I am busy. It felt like that part of me was dying and being replaced by this new lethargic mess. I hated it.
Eventually, I managed to overcome it. Two weeks after my last run I set out and ran an "easy" 3km. It was tough, my body hated me and I questioned if I should do it again. But I did, and this time did 3.5km, and again, running another 3.5km.
I've run three times since I started again, and slowly I'll build up to where I was, because that's how I want to feel. Not the way I did when not running. I'm on the road again, and I don't intend to pull over this time.
