Tag: illness

#365daysofbiking Just this side of midnight

 

26th December 2021 – I will post a fuller explanation in coming days, but I came to within two days of this journal’s ten year anniversary on March 30th, 2021, and just stopped, because I couldn’t decide what to do with it.

It was a sort of creative block. At the time.

But it was a bit more than that. I was very ill, but didn’t realise it at the time. It’s taken most of the year to get past those difficulties both physical and mental, and find my ease again. It’s not been a comfortable journey. Part of it will be that the nature of this journal will necessarily change.

I still cycle, every day pretty much. But documenting every day was becoming hard. I’m a decade older. I’m well into my 50s. My health has not been great. When I started all this, I would regularly not go to bed until 4am and be up for work at 6am and be fine. Now, I don’t have that energy, and it was getting harder and harder to find things to photograph, and street photography has got harder. Again, more on that later.

Way back in the spring I was quite ill with my bowel again. This was making me tired, and getting that sorted at the height of summer was such a boon – but within weeks, while my immunity was suppressed, I caught a skin infection. My leg swollen, I couldn’t ride some days – not because of any pain, but because I couldn’t get trousers on. Sorting that out properly took until the autumn.

Autumn brought me a gradual, day by day recovery: Not just of my physical power, but of my sense of mischief and desire to explore things.

Then came the debate: How do I deal with 365? I don’t want it to die. It’s been a huge part of my last decade, and it’s probably the least-read but most heartfelt writing I do publicly. I don’t want to lose that, but I can’t post every day: It’s become repetitive, I’m not sure anyone’s reading it that much and It’s too rigid a format to say things I want to say now.

So this journal is going to change. But also, sort of stay the same. You’ll see what I mean in coming days, weeks, months.

As I type this on Boxing Day at just my favourite side of midnight – 1:30am in a darkened house – I post a photo taken from Ogley Junction footbridge 3 hours before on one of the most unpleasant Christmas nights I’ve known – heavy rain for hours and all was sodden, but curiously, not my spirit. I was full of a great family Christmas Day, and the subsequent evening pursuit of solitude for a while, also hoping to burn off some of the digestive load. It was, at least, warm. The nights are opening out. I survived a particularly vile Autumn suck. It’s OK. All shall be well.

One of the oddest features of this year is that although this journal withered, my passion for riding bikes actually grew to a level I’ve not experienced for years. Although I was sporadic for a week here or there, I’ve actually ridden far more miles this year and had many more long rides than usual. it was rediscovering that joy that helped make me well again, a fact I am certain of.

So here I am, just on the morning side of midnight, on the light side of the dark, on the well side of ill, ready to journey onward, but only documenting rides when I feel I have something to share.

Hopefully that will work for you.

But there’s something I have to do first.

Stay tuned. Please. And I beg you to accept my apologies. I didn’t want to let you all down. But something had to give. I have written a huge amount on this journal. I think I’ve earned a more relaxed role.

Stay tuned.

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#365daysofbiking The twilight hour

January 28th – I was due to have a medical procedure next day.I’d left work early so I could make a start and prepare – I had medicine to take soon which meant I wouldn’t be able to stray far from home for long for a while, so a quick loop up the canal to Newtown and back.

At Ogley Junction, the scenery was stark and bleak as night descended.

I like this spot normally. Admittedly, far nicer on a sunny, warm day, but tonight it left me feeling empty and tired.

Perhaps it was the anxiousness for the following day kicking in – I couldn’t really tell.

The twilight hour can be such an unreliable friend.

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August 14th – A tiring, very long day, but despite my weekend gloom (sometimes the IBS gets you like that) the weather is still very dry and warm – although not the sun-drenched heatwave of a couple of weeks ago, it’s still warm enough to ride with just a tee shirt and hopefully catch a little warmth on the skin.

The weekend’s small amount of rain clearly hasn’t been wasted: things suddenly look green anew – the canal at Clayhanger Bridge was as limpid and peaceful as ever, but the surrounding vegetation is greening up again. It looks… Fresher. Grass is sprouting again, and optimistic, opportunistic weeds and wildflowers are shooting up on the edgelands.

Looks like summer isn’t over after all…

December 16th – Saturday was an awful day in many ways. Blighted by very poor weather and an unpleasant attack of IBS, I slunk out in the evening and headed up to Shire Oak to deliver some Christmas cards. 

I was unwell. The bike had a mechanical problem that was driving me nuts. The traffic was unpleasant, and conditions worse.

I gave up, went home, and retreated to a warm, soothing bath.

October 22nd – Seeing my old friend, who’s still ill but better than the time I saw him in the spring, we talked about time, and waiting and how illness makes waiting a very variable thing.

During the conversation I reflected on that being the reason why I doggedly note and watch the yearly changes, and any season’s passage welcome or unwelcome, is time gained, even if ultimately lost. 

Time’s arrow is sometimes your greatest friend, and sometimes your worst enemy. But time is everything, and one thing my friend taught me today was that time with those we like and love is valuable, whether a gained or lost.

As autumn closes in, both I and my friend look forward to a warm spring with the sun on our faces and open countryside, fine walks, a good pint in a decent pub, and the joy of time to pass.

Get well soon old friend. This journey, though mine alone, is still for you.

January 2nd – I finally plucked up courage just before sunset. I was still quite unwell, and am still suffering the upset stomach now, but I’d eaten a little, and wanted fresh air and the reassurance that I could still ride. It was very, very windy, and my energy levels pitiful. With the solid feel of my bike under me, I set off. Oddly liberated, I sped through Brownhills and back along the canal. I’d really missed this. The wind had been crafted on Satan’s anvil, but for once I just clicked down the gears and mashed through it. My energy didn’t last long, but I was back. I could do this again.

The sunset at Clayhanger bridge, and dusk looking toward the Jollier Collier Bridge from the Old Cement Works bridge made nice pictures.

Lying at home thinking, I decided I had to continue the 365daysofbiking project, to to make it fair, it had to start again from today. That’s the only way I can feel better about this, so I’ll continue.

January 1st – A better night, at least. Throughout the day, my condition improved. The shivers and shakes left me, my dizziness ebbed away and I was just left with the stomach from hell. I was taking more fluids and getting up more. Still quite weak, I didn’t do too much, and snoozed the evening and following night away. The only consolation of missing two days of the 365daysofbiking was that the weather was so awful outside. 

December 31st – I am ashamed. I broke my 365daysofbiking pledge. I failed.

I had grown increasingly ill during the previous night. Nausea, head and joint pain, diarrhoea. I snatched an hour here or there, punctuated by trips to the loo and the most awful nightmares. In the morning, I was still shivering and achy. It was either flu, or food poisoning. I was too weak to move much at all for large parts of the day. I didn’t turn the computer on, or watch TV. I just lay, alternately sweating and freezing. I followed my orders. Plenty of fluids. Rehydration. Rest. My condition settled. I tried, I really tried. But I couldn’t leave the house. I was stuck.

December 30th – Something wasn’t right. The weather had been appalling all day. I’d hidden indoors, and I’d been busying myself with a few other projects. As I pottered around, I felt increasingly unwell. Finally dragging myself out of the house at 8:30pm, it was very black, rainy and miserable. I was not on top form. Every pedal revolution felt like it was draining the strength from my body. I forgot my Gorillapod. I never do that.

After a loop around Brownhills, Clayhanger and Walsall Wood, I returned home, still feeling unwell. Later in the evening, I went out to the pub. I sat there for an hour with a good friend, shivering and feeling rotten, and found myself almost unable to walk home. Something was very, very wrong with me.