Hitting a wall

Accessing joy is not something I usually struggle to do. Especially when I start writing about my rides and cycling. I couldn’t do it, so I didn’t write anything last week. Maybe it’s okay to just be honest about that. Maybe it will help someone else if I am.

Beach sculpture by the River Clyde, Old Kilpatrick

I really struggled to get out last week, doing most of my rides on the indoor bike. Still doing something every day, still getting out for walks but not quite getting on the outdoor bike. Yes I’ve been very busy with work, but I hit a wall. I know it’s an internal wall. An ongoing issue in my personal life that feels barely manageable most of the time and at other times makes me feel utterly powerless. The details aren’t necessary to understand the feelings. It’s an issue that I’ve tried to get help with from everyone I can think of, but no matter what I do I cannot change things. I couldn’t even bear to write last week because I felt so hopeless. It hit me hard when I went to look for some great pictures for my blog and there were none.

I have managed to shift this funk a bit and grateful to have managed out on the bike at the weekend. Even if it was in the rain.

I know that going out on my bike relieves this feeling. It’s like a balm that makes all the difficult stuff disappear. But I just couldn’t go out. I couldn’t access my best coping mechanism because it required energy I just didn’t have. So how do I get myself out of this place? The thing that keeps me going is that I’ve been here before, many times. Knowing that somewhere deep inside me is a residue of resilience, a fragment of fight still there. It feels I am grabbing on to it with all that’s left of my might.

It’s very much like the feeling of going up a hill on the bike. I’ve never given up. I’ve never just turned round and ridden back down. Even if I’ve had to get off and walk, I’ve still made it to the top somehow. You do that just once, and your brain tucks it away. Instead of “I can’t do this” it becomes, but you did do it before, so that statement is no longer accurate. Our internal capacity meter is often a bit wonky. We can endure much more than we think we can.

Although it might feel like you are wading through mud, it’s still possible to get through it. And then it’s behind you instead of in front of you and the path ahead is clearer again. This week feels a little clearer, a little lighter. So the next time life incapacitates me, I will have the knowledge that I may have felt bent out of shape, but I didn’t break.