So, in the grand scheme of things, this week has been a Good Week.
Following last week’s major dip in form, interrupted only by a day of media insanity which appeared to coincide happily with an inexplicably good chest day, I finally appear to be getting a grip on a) the physical recovery process, with more energy, more internal resources and less time necessarily dedicated to sleep and b) the mental side of the game, which has seen me first acknowledge then work to accept my newly imposed limits.
In fact, my biggest challenge at this moment in time seems to be how to write a blog when covered in constantly interfering kitten. Pepe, one of Mum and Dad’s two new additions (alongside sister Tio), isn’t happy about my paying more attention to the funny glowing box with movey-cursor thing and there’s something distinctly antagonistic in my fingers on the keys, it would appear.
It’s hard to type with a kitten biting your thumb.
As I improve I am working hard not to get too carried away with recovery and am relying rather heavily on K and my ‘rents to keep me grounded for the time being.
For the first time today I ventured out of the house under my own steam and wanted to do more but was talked down by K. Dad has a Christmas party at work tonight and needed a lift there, but Mum had been to a Christmas party at work and was one over the limit, so I obligingly offered to run him into Town, from where I was planning to go to the flat and pick up some bits and bobs.
But, considering I’ve now gone two days without an afternoon kip (through lack of tiredness, not stubborn-streak staying awake), it fell to Lady K to suggest that perhaps racing round to the flat, up the stairs and back no doubt laden with odds and sods wasn’t the best way of testing how sustainable my energy levels actually are.
That said, it didn’t stop her urging me to boldly step back into Real Life by stopping at the chippy on my way home…
The point is, though, that as much as I feel like I’m striding forward at the moment and as positive and happy as that makes me feel, it’s important not to lose sight of what a tight-rope I’m walking just at the minute and to do what I can to minimise the risk of a relapse.
Which means that while it’s important to know my boundaries, it’s equally important to identify them through gentle probing rather than smashing through them at a sprint.
The challenge now is how to ignore my natural instinct to plough ahead full-steam and instead to slowly reintegrate myself to life, the universe and everything. And those of you who know me will be only too aware just how big a challenge that is.