So every story has its ending. This, my friends, is mine.
It seems unlikely that I will be able to run again, at least not at speed and not for any meaningful distance. I have loved running (a sentence I never thought I would write). It helped keep the dogs at bay, gave me a sense of self. I was, for a short while, the Man of Rust.
There is no irony in the fact that I have now rusted, worn a piece of me to the point of no return. There is no irony that the MS has not caused my immobility but my attempts to run away from it. It’s just life.
An earlier blog talked that my life is governed by numbers. It’s true. But the most important numbers are no longer getting 5k in under 20 minutes (I did that twice) but the following. 4 and 7. The years til my boys reach an age that in theory they can stand on their own two feet. Men. Well, trainees 🙂
I have used running and triathlons to keep me going, as a way of feeling that I have some form of control. It was always more Canute than clinical but it worked. Now I need a new ‘stabilizer’ and this blog has run its course.
See you on the other side
Love ‘n’ hugs