Edinburgh Marathon 2024: Voluntary vs Involuntary Suffering

Bit of an uncomfortable one this to share, and certainly not my usual topic to write about. But it’d be poor form for me to be raising money for mental health charities, supporting men feeling like they can share the burden of their struggles without being transparent about my own. Not to mention I’ve barely spoken about one of the main reasons I’m running a Marathon in 6 weeks.

In 2016, I was diagnosed with an auto-immune condition known as ‘Mixed Connective Tissue Disease’ (MCTD) after a very confusing few months of losing my ability to do very basic things.

I was suddenly unable to tie my shoe laces; I even had to swap over to roll on deodorant because I didn’t have the strength in my hands for the spray cans!

I was losing all feeling in my hands and feet on nights out, whilst at the bar, expected to take a full round of drinks back to the table…(Highly embarrassing having to stand in the men’s loos with your hands under warm water for 30 mins to get the blood running through them again).

Like a typical bloke, I kept putting off going to the GP; but it got progressively worse to the point of being unable to physically get out of bed. Many many blood tests later, I was given some clarity on what it was; told it was degenerative, and that I’d be on some pretty heavy meds for the rest of my days. The kind where you take one, solely to handle the side effects of another.

After a year of trying to grasp onto the joys of living a normal life whilst I could; I gained weight, sunk many pints, wasn’t in the best headspace, and certainly wasn’t giving my body what it needed to, at least live with the condition amicably.

The title of this post was a thought I had close to the time, which has stuck with me ever since, and it’s been a close friend/powerful tool in helping me navigate all of the uncertainty I’ve had, over ‘if’ and ‘when’ I’d likely start going downhill again.

Voluntary vs Involuntary Suffering.

It became somewhat of a daily mantra. I could choose to push myself into uncomfortable situations, and retain some control; or I could simply just allow things to take their course, but likely face a downward spiral.

I chose to go and live in Edinburgh to study my masters. I also chose to do the Three Peaks Challenge shortly after; climbing Ben Nevis, Scafell Pike, Snowdon, all within 24 hours; when I was short on trust in my body’s ability to carry me through it.

Taken by Ian Barrar

Big challenges aside, the smaller decisions were arguably more impactful. The training for Three Peaks; running up and down Arthurs Seat and Salisbury Crags three times on a Saturday to even come close to replicating the challenge; the imposter syndrome of building my reputation from scratch, as a photographer in a new city, to earn enough money.

The daily micro challenges that all build up to form much stronger resilience. Everything at that time felt difficult, but I was in the process of rebuilding that relationship I had with my body and brain; rebuilding trust for us to work as a team again, rather than against each other.

During lockdown, I decided enough was enough; and felt I had the perfect controlled environment to trial coming off these nasty meds I was on. If I was bedbound for a week, at least I didn’t have to be in work. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the most sensible way to approach it, but the world didn’t end.

I was living alone at the time, and like many people, had to get out into that Easter sun and get into a routine of running. Long story short, since then, I’ve never had to go back for another prescription. I still get the odd reminder every now and again that it’s still there, but it keeps me in check. I guess it’s similar to the marathon in a way; just trying to stay in front of the pacer, knowing full well they’ll overtake if you take your foot off the gas.

Owning hospitality businesses through the rollercoaster of Covid & the Cost of Living crisis, as well as having our first experience of a restaurant closure, provided more than enough voluntary suffering (it often felt involuntary).

And that brings me all the way to now; running a marathon in Edinburgh in 5 weeks.

It’ll be a pretty special (and potentially emotional) full circle moment. Running past Arthurs Seat and remembering all of those bitterly cold early mornings to fit some training in, with no plan or idea on how to run properly.

Throughout those years, it’s been the slow and mostly non-linear accumulation of those mini daily building blocks that have allowed me to get to where I am now. An unconditional supply of patience with myself; seeing others achieving times that seem effortless for them, but almost incomprehensible to me. But a year ago, a half marathon felt incomprehensible; the year before, that 10k felt incomprehensible. Right now, the marathon feels……almost comprehensible.