Saturday, June 02, 2018

Dear Diary,

I'm sitting here, looking out the window.  I did 3 miles this morning.  Big whoop.  After recovering from CDiff last month, I got a cold.  Just a cold.  I guess.  For he past 2 weeks, when I've tried to go out and do a run, I've doubled over with coughing. Fucking coughing.  It's my nemesis.

At what point do I simply give up?

At what point do. simply say, "I'm destined to be sickly and coughing for the rest of my life.  The end."  ?

After recovery from Cdiff, for three glorious weeks I was working my way up to running most then mot of my workouts.  Then I dipped into a petris dish.  I bought a cold.  Just a cold.  I've been drowning ever since.  Coughing and choking, peeing my pants, and trying to walk 2 miles without coughing and choking.  I have a pain in my side.  I think I may be developing a hernia from all he coughing.

Will I ever be not sick?

Will I ever be normal?

I'm beginning to thing I won't.  I'm beginning to think I should accept that my life, as I had planned it, is not what I thought it would be.  I will not be an ultra runner.  I will be sickly.

that is not what I wanted my life to be.

I wonder if I will need to redefine myself as someone else.  Someone who is sickly and does some stuff.  I hate being this person, the whining person who has excuses and reasons.  I'm not that person.

Fuck.  I feel hopeless.



 I'm no longer involved in multisport or endurance sports. I've started my own business, a psychotherapist specializing in anxiety d...