Hitting The Wall

Updated on January 26th, 2023

Hitting “The Wall”?
Palma, Majorca – April 2009

Today (21st April 2016) marks my 15 year wedding anniversary and comes hot on the heels of the 16 month anniversary of losing Terry, my husband. On Sunday it’s the London marathon & as many runners will face along the course, I think I’m starting (& only just starting) to hit “The Wall”. I looked it up – when runners have depleted all their bodies energy supplies. They are “running on empty”. I think that’s where I am. I feel I’ve been fighting every day for the last 16 months and I finally feel I’m starting to be running on empty. This week has been an emotional one, lacking drive & motivation so this will be short.

Words aren’t coming easy. I was planning to share a whole load of anecdotes from our perfect & imperfect wedding but I don’t feel uplifted by the memories in the same way as usual. I feel loss. I feel lost.

Bruges, Belgium – April 2011

Terry & I always went away for our anniversary. Generally a city break, generally Europe, always fun. By contrast this year I have had 3 busy weeks (hence no blogging) spending time away & with friends which have been lovely, kept my mind off things & distracted me. I recognise now that “distracted” has become my default & where I am most comfortable. I clearly didn’t plan things very well. I have the 16th of every month marked on my calendar so I don’t forget the anniversaries of losing Terry. For some reason, I forgot our wedding anniversary so I’ve spent the week trying to distract myself. Unsuccessfully.

Berlin, Germany – April 2012

The advice for runners to prepare for hitting the wall in the marathon is 3 fold:

Know it’s happening, recognise & acknowledge it
Keep going
Push through

If you can achieve this they say you may then get runners euphoria, so there’s where the analogy ends.

I’m not sure if this is just a phase or it will go on for a while. What I do know is that with grief there is no choice but to push through.

New York, USA – April 2013

But I miss my husband. I miss his mischievous smile, I miss the glint in his eye, I miss his nonsense, his bowel obsession, his poached eggs on a Saturday morning & his roast dinners on a Sunday night. I miss all the jokes I heard a million times. I miss his inspiration, his drive & the infamous words “I’ve got a plan…”