The Dazzle #15

The real challenge is to be still.

I broke myself last week. It is so annoying when this happens. You may have noticed a two week gap between Dazzles (and you may have not), because last Sunday, at my usual Substack-writing time, I was instead lying on the floor in my living room, stretching my shins in pain, snot running down my face, after forcing myself out to run 16 miles with a head cold. Ten kilometres in, it began to rain. Biblically. It didn’t stop for the remainder of the run (another 16k). Every 100 metres or so, I thought about pulling the plug and going home. Every 110 metres or so, I remembered that I start my crazy running challenge in less than a month (Running the Brighton Marathon, then from Brighton to London, and then the London Marathon) and giving up is no longer an option in the crazy-arse-ultra plan I am following. So on I went, ignoring the pleas of my body in favour of the taunts of my ego: “If you give up, you’re a failure”; “if you don’t do this, you won’t be able to do the challenge"; “you’re a total loser'“ and so on and so forth until I found myself in a heap on the floor at home, feeling completely broken.

I went to bed shivering. My body ached, from running, but also, I suspected, from fighting off a virus of some sort. “I will write the Dazzle tomorrow,” I thought, slipping into bed, but tomorrow came and I was well and truly crocked. I limped to the toilet, and looked in the mirror. An extra from 28 Days Later stared back at me. I went back to bed. I texted a wise friend I was supposed to be meeting, to cancel.

“Sometimes,” she replied, “ the real challenge is to be still.”

Oh, how right she is! And wouldn’t you say that actually, most of the time the challenge is to be still, rather than just sometimes? I am an alcoholic but I am also a workaholic and a validation-a-holic and the thought of not having lots on fills me with fear because what if that means I no longer exist? The challenge, I realise, is not just to be still… but to realise that often, the only way you can ever move forward in any meaningful way is by grinding to a halt and gathering yourself. By stopping and sitting and assessing. So that is what I have spent the last week doing. That and smothering various bits of myself in Vicks Vaporub/Deep Heat (it’s vital not to get the two mixed up, I have discovered).

Anyway, this is your permission to be still. To slow the hell down and switch off your phone and take time out and allow yourself a moment to work out what to do next. “Nothing,” said my wise friend when I told her this. “Next, you should do nothing. And that’s an order.” A powerful one, at that.

Bryony xx