At the end of August, I did my first race since school. It was a 10K in Carrick and I thought I was in well over my head. Despite the rain, it went well. I wasn't exactly aiming to be 1st (I placed 848/854) but I did it in roughly the time I thought I would (1:26:31). That experience was one of the most positive experiences I've had recently in my life. I was able to run along at my own pace, listening to music and doing little dance-run-sings at times when I felt like it. I went past people who were there in droves just to cheer people on even though it was pouring down. I've never felt so supported for just being who I am (of course, I was wearing a t-shirt and shorts - scars were definitely on show that day). I smiled throughout and even when it came towards the end and I was trying to slog through the last 200m, I felt good about what I was doing and felt happy I was able to achieve something. In the end, I got a commemorative medal to remember the day by and the memory of knowing I did something a lot of other people can't (or don't think they can.) I was also soaked, tired and sore for the rest of the day. I'm glad I did it, though.
Since I've done the 10K, I have tried to keep my training regime going. 3 times a week: short run, mixed run (different speeds), and then a long run (currently aiming for around 10K, building it up each week. It's been great for my mental health and of course for my general health. My occupational therapist has suggested I aim for more events like the 10K I did in Carrick or even just go for Parkruns as these will get me meeting more people and meeting more people means I have less social anxiety. I suppose it's like exposure therapy isn't it? "You're scared of being around a lot of people, so you should go and be around a lot of people."
As I said, I've been continuing training and next year hope to do more 10K's and maybe even work my way up to a half marathon. Slowness remains my biggest weakness - I'm a slow walker, I'm a slow runner. It's just how I am. I worry about how I would get my speed up for such races so I'm not left lagging behind. I did as I expected in the Carrick 10K and I expected to be slow since it was my first race (I've never even done a 5K!) but it concerns me in case I'll always be like that. Will I always be one of the slowest, lagging behind everyone else? As well as the social aspect, that's certainly also another source of anxiety. Oh, and my fear of tripping and falling. I'm the kind of person that once something like that happens, even if it only happens 1 out of 500 times, I will always fear it happening again. It will always be in my brain that I might trip here and fall over and break another bone, having done so with my right foot and right elbow in the past. I'm hoping optimism will overwhelm the fear because, as I said, that day was such a positive day for me and I felt proud - not something I feel often.
The 10K was on a Sunday and a few days after, on Thursday, I was to go on holiday to Lanzarote. This was going to be a challenge for me. During previous holidays, I tended to get quite depressed and self harm in some way or another. I thought going and sharing a room with my mum would aid this at least a little bit. The flight over was okay (despite having to wake up around 4AM that morning to go to the airport; the flight was at 7:15AM.) Thankfully I had no problems at security (makes a change). Upon arriving, I could see just how desolate and, well, volcanic the island seemed. It consisted of lava, cacti and lots of aloe vera specifically.
Our hotel was huge and looked great. Our room had a great view from the balcony of the hotel pools with the sea and many volcanoes in the distance. We did, however, have some issues with the room almost immediately: The bathroom door didn't close due to having a warped frame. the bed (which I had unfortunately chosen, instead of my mum) was worn down to the springs and you could hardly sit on it, never mind fathom a decent night's sleep on it. The dial for the A/C was cracked and it was unknown whether it even worked as it should. Overall, the room looked like someone had been murdered there - there was cracked glass along the edge of the top of the dressing table, strange dark stains on the ceiling, places where paint (not even the same colour, never mind shade) had been painted over something... I didn't worry though. We complained about the door and mattress and got both fixed on the first night, thankfully. That same night, we first attended the buffet the hotel held each night (this night was Japanese/Chinese food - it upset my mum's stomach) and came back to the room. Doing some journaling on the balcony was made more pleasant by the slight breeze and the sound of planes taking off from the island's only airport, which we could see in the distance. I was happy to sleep that night.
The next day was all about preparations. We had breakfast for the first time in the hotel (again, a buffet) and we met with the travel rep in the afternoon. Ignoring the enormous cockroach we noticed in the room, we spoke with the rep and booked a couple of trips: "Fire Mountain" which is a trip to the Lanzarote national park Timanfaya and some other places on the route, and something totally different - MHT comedy drag show. Both would be on the following Tuesday. This gave us a few days to do things at our own pace and get a feel for the area. We went shopping and bought ourselves beach towels, groceries (mainly chocolate biscuits, tea and proper coffee) and some gifts too (I bought myself a gold maneki neko!) That night was Canarian night for dinner which was lovely and spicy and full of fish. We decided also to upgrade from half board to all inclusive because... free cocktails and wine/water on tap instead of having to pay each time. This was the start of the 4 cocktails a night routine I had going - which would later be my downfall.
Day 3 was spent sunbathing and swimming in the hotel pool. We went out to scope the beach and also found some nice restaurants in an area we would return to again and again. Another night was spent drinking: 1 glass of rosé with dinner, 2 after dinner shots, 3 vodka/cokes and 2 strawberry daiquiris. I was fine with this. Day 4 was much of the same - swimming, sunbathing, out for dinner, drinking...
On the Monday we went to check out the hotel's spa and booked a couple of beauty treatments. I got my nails done that afternoon (€45 was a complete rip off for something half assed I could have done myself). We had dinner in the hotel that evening and it was European night so they had champ and it tasted nowhere near as good as it does at home. 2 glasses of sangria and 3 cocktails and the day was done.
(I neglect to mention that each night has different entertainment going on in the hotel in the evening. This is when I was drinking the most because, believe me, you didn't want to be there sober.)
Tuesday was the busiest day. We had to get our breakfast at 7AM to set out in the coach at 8AM. We first saw the volcanic national park and were treated to such events as being given a small handful of rocks from the ground which were so hot you had to pass them from hand to hand until they cooled. We witnessed a tumbleweed being lowered into a hole where it then went on fire from the heat. There was a restaurant where they cooked using only the heat from the volcanoes. We also saw water being poured into the geysers which was an interesting watch. After, we had a tour of the volcanic landscape itself until we reached... the camels. Hundreds of them. At this point, anyone who wanted to ride a camel could, but I passed and took pictures of them instead.
Next up was the "Aloe Vera Museum" which was less of a museum and more of a shop with an empty room beside it for bringing in crowds to speak about aloe vera. Of course, we were suckered in and left with pure aloe vera gel, aloe vera capsules, aloe vera cooling gel, aloe vera body cream and aloe vera lip balm. The rest of the holiday was spent applying aloe vera to ourselves.
We also visited some vineyards and got free samples of dry and sweet types of wine. Then we saw the volcanic coast. It's exactly what it sounds like: a coast made up of lava from volcanic eruptions. We were back in time for lunch which we had at the hotel and then sunbathed for a while.
That evening we attended the drag show. It was the most quintessentially British thing about the holiday: the food was British, the people were British (aside from one from Ireland), the audience was British, and I forgot I was in Spain for a moment. We had a dinner provided for us and again, I began to drink more than I should. I thought I could manage 5 cocktails and a glass of wine. I was wrong. I was fine until I got on to the bus and then I started to puke into the nearest bag I had (one of my cute little reusable shopping bags which did an excellent job at keeping the barf in) and I didn't stop even when I was back in my hotel room. The world was spinning. I had never experienced a kind of drunkenness like this before in my life and obviously I'm going to blame my sleeping meds for it. "Do not drink on this medication", yeah right! Having said that, before the worst part of the holiday (the barfing) started, the night was such fun. It was a hilarious show and I was in stitches from laughter. Despite going to Spain expecting to do Spanish things, I still enjoyed myself a lot that night.
Thankfully the next day was spa day. We had the full "Lanzarote treatment". This meant getting weird sand stuff rubbed all over my body (volcanic treatment), getting covered neck to toes in aloe vera goop and wrapped up to be left for a little while (aloe vera wrap) and then massaged. Obviously I had to shower between treatments because otherwise I imagine things would be messy. The rest of the day was spent sunbathing on the balcony and enjoying the Italian buffet by the hotel. I drank nothing but water and coffee that whole day.
Day 8 was spent with a free spa bubblebath in the morning (so relaxing) and then a visit to the pool for more sunbathing/swimming. We went to the aquarium that day for a quick visit (we arrived only an hour before closing!) and saw sharks, turtles (which were sleeping), manta rays, funny looking fish etc. We have by now found our favourite restaurant we wanted to keep returning to so that night we ate there and I had some fried squid - I spent most of the holiday eating seafood.
Friday and my mood started to dip a little bit. We spent most of the day in the hotel and I could feel the irritation. We went to the hydrotherapy circuit in the spa that day and it was certainly something. I went all the way around it and really enjoyed it. It relaxed me a little bit and then after, again, we went sunbathing by the pool (my reading for the whole holiday was I'll Be Gone in the Dark by Michelle McNamara, by the way.) Dinner in the hotel, sangria, vodka and coke, done.
Saturday was our final full day. We went to the usual place for a free breakfast we were given vouchers for and then went to the beach where we rented 2 seats and an umbrella. We didn't have much with us (no swimsuits, beach towels...) so just sat around in the very uncomfortable chairs. I did get the backs of my legs tanned a bit, watched some anime and dipped my feet in the water. After coming back to the hotel, I decided to attend the hydrotherapy circuit again (this time making sure to bring a towel for the sauna since they bizarrely didn't supply any.) The sauna circuit was interesting. There were at least 5 different rooms at different temperatures. In one I encountered an older man from Newtownards which was unexpected - I was a bit surprised hearing another Norn Irish person speaking to me out of the blue. We had a little discussion and he was supportive regarding my mental illness and self harm scars. Certainly a nice man and good to speak to. The rest of the day was spent packing.
We left on Sunday. First we had our breakfast in the hotel as usual, then had to fiddle around with our hand luggage and hold luggage since the latter was overweight. We were certain we were going to be fined at the airport but later on we were let away with it (I think we were 2-3kg over). After sitting about the hotel for a while, we went to our favourite restaurant (Prado Verde - look it up if you're ever in the area) for lunch and a cocktail. I took an extra promethazine that afternoon to prepare me for the airport. It didn't work.
It was stressful enough wanting to get home but there were 4 queues of people for our flight which pushed my social anxiety into overdrive. After getting past check-in okay with our overweight baggage, security was next. I dread security. I don't dread it because I have anything to hide, I just always get stopped and I'm the kind of person who hates people singled out when there are many people around me like in this situation. I was stopped, I was told it was a random security search - I beeped through the metal detector but they didn't actually pat me down after. My stuff was being searched and had what I assume to be some kind of drug or explosive detector passed over it. In the meantime, I stood there like a deer in the headlights becoming more and more confused. I couldn't make out what I was being told. I didn't know if I could go or not, if I had to be patted down, what they wanted with me, etc. It was hell. I felt so embarrassed. After a while the man that stopped me just smiled and I *assume* said it was okay for me to go (I suspect he could see the scars, he could see my reaction, he decided it was stressing me out enough and my things had already been scanned). Still, I don't think I've ever had such an anxiety attack inducing experience at an airport. The rest of my time there I was scratching my hands until they bled. I was crying. I wanted to die. My mum got me a chocolate muffin and I asked for a vodka/coke and hoped they would calm me down a bit. They did - a little.
As I got on the plane, I thought someone was in my seat and was about to chastise them until I realised I was stupid and looking at the wrong seats. At this point I had already said "Um... these are our seats" in their direction. Again, I wanted to die. I sat down, tears streamed from my face, and I took a spare clonazepam. I hoped taking these extra meds would help. I did end up relaxing enough to sleep a little on the plane and then had some chocolate and the remaining bottle of coke I had from the vodka/coke during the flight. I don't think I've ever been so happy to come home. That was one of the worst anxiety attacks I've ever had and if I hadn't been at an airport which obviously is lacking in sharp objects, I know I would have cut and cut severely.
Overall, the holiday was needed and I was able to handle it. I could cope with walking around with my scars on show and that's something to be proud of. I was also able to cope with the stress of the logistics to do with the holiday. That last day and the night when I drank too much stand out as negative experiences but I'm trying to forget about them in comparison to better times. Here's to next year.
