Tag: Heart health

Running: It’s been a funny old year.

When I say ‘it’s been a funny old year’, it’s not been funny at all. For the first couple of months of 2025 I was struggling to shake off the effects of a bug I’d had over Christmas and New year and it just felt like I wasn’t making any progress at all. Running was no fun whatsoever.

By March I’d managed enough training to complete the Wakefield 10k in a reasonable enough time to keep me happy. It went better than I’d imagined it would and that was more than enough. I resolved to get out training and get my fitness levels back up to where they’d been a couple of years before. This had been around the time of having my pacemaker fitted, when strangely enough I’d been the fittest I’d been in decades and was running well, producing faster and faster times week in week out.

Sadly, as this year has progressed, things didn’t particularly change. There was little or no upturn in fortune or fitness and injury followed illness followed injury. If I got really lucky I’d be ill while carrying an injury!

Since March I think I’ve managed to run less than ten 10ks. Only one was in a race; the Leeds 10k which as ever was thoroughly enjoyable. The ones I’ve managed to complete in training have been slow and gruelling. Mostly though, I’ve been restricted to shorter distances with the odd bit of strength work thrown in for good measure. But even the resistance bands have fallen by the wayside. It’s been hard to stay motivated when I’ve been full of cold, feeling sick or nursing my back through a week at work, hoping that it doesn’t just ping and leave me in a world of pain. This happened in August and left me struggling to walk, let alone run! Not content with feeling that it had strained a little in the morning, in the evening I thought that it would be a good idea to start moving heavy bags around only to find that the ‘ping’ happened with the first attempted lift. Absolute agony!

I managed to find renewed motivation going back to work in September as I trained hard to be ready for my local 10k. I’d started off trying to run some quick 5ks before building up distances. Towards the end of September I realised that I hadn’t had my race number through for the 10k that was taking place at the beginning of October. Checking my emails revealed no confirmation though and then the penny dropped; I hadn’t actually entered. I took it as a sign. Still struggling to gain any momentum or fitness I decided just to take my time and train steadily towards the next 10k at the end of November, giving me loads of time to get sharp and ready for a race that is relatively flat and known for the chance it gives for personal bests.

Even then, things just wouldn’t go right. A couple of weeks ago I injured my foot and still have no idea how I did it. One minute I was walking along fine and the next it hurt to put my foot on the ground. That lasted a week before gradually getting better!

Over the last week I’ve been able to get in two runs; a 4 mile and a 5 mile. Neither was hugely quick, but I’m happy to have miles in the legs and on my 5 miler I have to say, I felt strong.

Hopefully, this is the start of just being able to get out running regularly. I managed to get out for a run on our recent holiday in Mallorca, even though I’d planned to go out twice…illness again. I love the change of scenery though and the fact that I can get straight into the pool once I’ve finished, so even just the one run is a bonus! Now, back in chilly England, I’ve got around a couple of weeks to get myself race ready. Maybe there can be a decent ending to my running year yet!

Wish me luck!

The Pacemaker Diaries: It’s been two years.

You wouldn’t know it with the amount that I probably bang on about it, but I genuinely didn’t want having a pacemaker to define me. Still, I write about it, think about it constantly, find myself telling people things about it and frequently catch myself looking at my scar in the mirror or prodding away at the bit at the top of my chest where my wires are sticking up, right at the surface.

That said, a quick search of my posts tells me that the last time I wrote a ‘Pacemaker Diary’ was actually in November 2023, a whole year after it was fitted. So, even though it’s been mentioned in some pieces I’ve written since, maybe I’m not banging on about it quite as much as I imagine. Anyone I speak to regularly can feel free to correct me on that though!

I was prompted to write this post because of Facebook memories of all things. In the lead up to Christmas and New Year just gone it felt like every few days there’d be something popping up where I was thanking people for their support or updating friends on my progress. They reminded me of both how poorly I’d been and also how far I’d come and they made me do a lot of thinking about the little machine that sits in my chest.

It’s been over 2 years since I had the pacemaker fitted. I didn’t pay much attention to the anniversary this time around. Sometimes there’s just too much going on in life for you to pause and have a think about stuff. But those Facebook memories changed all that and made me want to write something down about what life’s like these days. Self indulgent? I don’t know really, but I guess if you think that way you have the option of clicking that little x in the corner of your screen and not reading on.

I think writing about it simply helps me get on with life, which might be a bit more understandable when I tell you what it’s all like.

The pacemaker makes me feel a lot more comfortable about life, that’s for sure. I hardly ever worry about my heart. But paradoxically, it is always there to remind of just how poorly I was and the long, long time that it took me to get better. On top of that it’s a constant reminder of how low it all made me feel and the worryingly negative effects it had on my mental health.

There are both positives and negatives when it comes to having this device though and those reminders on social media made me think about a few of them. The first is just a bit of a change, I suppose, although does feel slightly negative. These days, my heart literally thumps when there’s not really been a great deal of effort. I’ve noticed it when climbing stairs and also that when getting into bed and straightening out the duvet, once I settle down my heart will be thumping! As someone who had an unnaturally low heart rate prior to all this – one of the reasons for the pacemaker – that takes a bit of getting used to!

Having the pacemaker has really made me focus on my health and fitness to the point where I’m really quite obsessive and possibly even a little evangelical about running! Silly really, but it genuinely makes me feel strong being able to run, especially in actual races. I couldn’t recommend it enough, even though I’m aware it’s not everybody’s cup of tea!

Another negative is that I live with a heart monitor by the side of my bed. This makes me feel really, really old! The monitor doesn’t do much, but I’m aware it’s feeding data back to the hospital which still feels a little bit weird. As I mentioned earlier as well, I have another scar as well as a strange bit on my chest where my wires just stick upwards. It’s a neat little scar, but those wires spoil things and coupled with the big scar that I have on my chest from a childhood heart operation, it’s not a great look!

My condition means that I still get heart palpitations, albeit nowhere near as regularly as I was having them for large parts of 2022 before my operation. However now, when they come I can rest assured that the pacemaker will kick in after about 5 seconds and stop them. It’s still quite a frightening thing, especially when it feels like the pacemaker isn’t going to react. The thought of having them for untold hours and just trying to get on with my day while wondering if I was about to pass out is a memory that still lingers! Still, that pacemaker is reassuring though.

Another drawback is that my left arm and shoulder don’t seem to work very well anymore. My scarring is really close to my left shoulder and I assume that it’s affected things as I haven’t got full movement and my left arm isn’t as ‘strong’ as it used to be. I mean, it wasn’t strong anyway, but it’s just a bit pathetic nowadays!

The final gripe I have is with my aftercare. I’ve only had one follow up appointment with a cardiologist since it all happened. Even that wasn’t actually scheduled. It was an appointment about a 24 hour monitor I’d worn, but in between times I’d had to have my pacemaker fitted, so the appointment was made later because the cardiologist didn’t realise and had to spend a load of time reading my notes before actually seeing me! Since then – January 2023 – there have been a couple of scans done but no meeting with actual doctors, which feels wrong.

I have had a letter from my hospital saying that a planned appointment had been rescheduled for later in the year, but I hadn’t even been informed about the planned appointment, so it’s all a bit of a mystery really! Luckily, I feel fit and healthy but it is concerning not to be speaking to someone when we’re almost 2 years on from the last appointment.

All in all, it’s been a bit of a whirlwind. Two years of major change that, just when you think you’ve almost forgotten about it and are living pretty normally, comes back to haunt you via bloody Facebook of all things! Clearly, while this pacemaker doesn’t really define me, it’s never going to leave me either!

Another step in the right direction: The Pontefract 10k 2024

Sometimes life’s just not fair. When I first looked at the projected weather forecast, 5 days prior to this race, it told me that it would be relatively cool and that there might even be a chance of light rain. So, in many ways ideal conditions for running. But as the day got closer the forecast changed and Sunday brought temperatures in the 20s and no cloud cover. Just what I would have wanted to avoid!

A year ago, the Pontefract 10k was my first race after having surgery to have a pacemaker fitted. Obviously, it brought its own challenges and in the end I was happy to finish in just under an hour. This year, with a lot more runs under my belt – albeit often taking two steps forward to then take two or three back – I was hopeful of a much better time. And then the hot weather decided to put in an appearance.

Last year’s race was meant to be the final one ever, but then late last year someone told me that Pontefract was on again and following a quick online search I found myself entering once more. I’ve ran this race for the last four years now and absolutely love it. There’s always a friendly, welcoming atmosphere, it’s well organised and despite the undulations of the course (so many hills!), it’s just a really enjoyable run.

I do feel a little bit guilty about doing runs like this. In the grand scheme of things it’s not that long ago that I was collapsing in front of my family and scaring the life out of them, so insisting on running these races might be a bit much. However, they in turn insist on coming with me and I know they’ll spend the time between seeing me start and seeing me finish worrying, but at least they can hopefully see that I’m getting stronger and stronger. However we all feel, I’m very grateful for their love and support and it’s always a boost when I see them near the end. Or hear them before I see them as is often the case!

We arrived early this year as we had to pick up my race number, but despite my fears of an enormous queue, it only took a minute or so to sort out. So we found a sunny spot and stood chatting in the sun for a while, with me doing the occasional bit of half-hearted stretching. All the while, at the back of my mind was the thought of exactly how hot it was going to be out on the run, meaning that my usual pre-race nerves were ramped right up.

Before I knew it though, we were shuffling forward and a local DJ was counting us down. And then, we were off! I gave a quick last wave to my family and began to run and gather my thoughts.

Pontefract starts with a long, long hill and every year I have to concentrate hard to pace myself as otherwise I go too fast and then suffer for it in the middle of the race. Today though, I’m still shaking off a bit of a cold and so as a consequence I’m running fairly steadily and hoping that it’ll pay off towards the end when I can really up my pace. Fingers crossed! Even this early though, my mouth was beyond dry, so while I’d half-heartedly told myself that I could run about 51 minutes, the heat was going to make that a tough ask.

Pontefract is a lovely run. It’s largely rural, so for most of the race you’re in the middle of the countryside and I used that a bit today in order to try and forget about the heat. The one problem with this rural landscape is that the chances to run in the shade are few and far between and so while I was slowly baking I tried to take my mind off things by taking in the views. I was kidding myself if I thought it was really going to work though and it wasn’t overly long before the heat was beginning to take its toll.

However, by around the halfway point I had ran for 25 minutes, meaning that a reasonably quick run was in sight. But oh, those pesky hills! There are a number of steep climbs on the way back towards the finish and so, combined with the heat, the second half of the race began to feel quite brutal quite quickly.

I kept checking my watch for both speed and distance covered and stayed really focused, even though I was slowing down with every climb. And then as we reached a hydration point I completely lost focus and slowed right down while trying to grab a bottle of water and then take a few big gulps without throwing the whole thing down myself. It was only when I threw the bottle to one side that I realised that I was jogging and that I should have tipped the remaining water over my head!

As we got close to the finish two things happened – firstly, I could feel a numbness in my wrist and left hand as my hands swelled up (again) in the heat. Off putting to say the least! Secondly though, I managed to find a last bit of energy in order to speed up significantly for the last mile.

As I turned into the final straight before the finish line I just decided to sprint. I knew that my time wasn’t going to be exactly what I’d been aiming for, but I was still well inside the 55 minutes that I’d told my son to expect for me. My legs were like jelly and I was far too hot, but I managed to pass a couple of people before just about staggering over the line!

It’s always a weird feeling finishing a race. I got a little bit emotional after this one last year as it had been the first race since my pacemaker and I was genuinely a little scared about doing it. At other times I’ll feel fairly fresh and be able to wander through the finish enclosure smiling and looking halfway alive still. Today, I revert to what is more or less type for me; shattered. I know I must look an old vagrant and like I might just fall over, but I don’t much care. I’ve done it and I’ve got a huge grin on my face.

So now it’s back to training for me. I’ll have a look at whether there are any other races to enter in the coming months, but in the meantime life outside of work and family will just be about running and recovering. I’m still fully aware that I’ve had a major scare and with the reasoning being that the fitter I am, the stronger I am, it’s just about more of the same.

I’m still here, I’m still able to run and I remind myself of this kind of thing every day! So however shattered I might feel after something like this, it’s still something to smile about.

Spring is springing, so why am I looking back?

As we creep out of the darkness that winter has held us in for the last 4 months or so, I’m finding myself casting my mind back a year. I don’t want to. I’d told myself I needed to move on. And yet, here we are, reliving many of the negatives of a year ago and I’m not entirely sure why.

This time last year, I was 4 months into my recovery after heart surgery to fit a pacemaker. I was suffering physically and mentally. However, while physically I was slowly getting better and might even have started running again, mentally I was struggling.

I would continue to struggle for a while longer too.

This time last year though, I could at least feel like the end of being so poorly and frankly useless, was in sight. Every day I’d go for a walk and since starting this in the November of the previous year, I’d gradually been able to go out for longer. So, a year ago I was managing to take myself out for a walk for a good hour, some days more if the weather was brighter and warmer. I’d just wander, but mainly I had two routes. Either I’d walk slowly up to one of our local parks and take in the sights there, or I’d head out a bit further across some farmland and along a public footpath, past horses and cattle and down towards a golf club before realising I was way too tired and ambling home.

As the days got warmer and lighter I started noticing more. Leaves appearing on trees, buds of life on shrubs and flowers and as soppy as it might sound, it gave me a bit of hope.

A year on and it’s funny how things change. I’ve been back at work and back to the usual routine since around March 2023 and I don’t feel like I’ve settled at all. I still feel my pacemaker every day. It’s just there; a slightly heavier presence in my chest than normal. Day by day, it just sits there and whenever there’s even the slightest palpitation or flutter, it just kicks in and works. Sometimes, for no apparent reason it makes the area around it ache and can be more than just a little bit uncomfortable. Recently I’ve had a sharp pain around the place on my chest where the wires come out of the top of the pacemaker. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, but I’d rather it wasn’t there as well.

Being back to ‘normal’ has been strange, mainly because deep down I don’t feel like I am really back to normal. Most things are a bit more of a strain than I remember. I’m much more tired, much more easily, which in turn means that I have to really try hard not to be grumpy at everyone and everything! And I am really trying.

In September, when the new academic year started, I made it my goal to just try and be relentlessly positive. I praised classes for the slightest thing, spent a chunk of down time every day adding positive points to our monitoring system so that kids could see I appreciated them, kept smiling and was as energetic as I could be in class and even in meetings, which was a major struggle for me!

I felt that the positivity had slipped around Christmas time. I was counting down the hours of the day, the days of the week and just clinging on for the weekends when I could relax and just get out more and have time to think.

Since January I’ve tried to get back on that positive horse and I think I’ve done ok, but if I’m honest I’m still just clinging on. But then clinging on is not losing my grip, so maybe I should be grateful. I find that I’m looking back a lot. For one, I wish I’d admitted to being poorly about 6 months before I did! Whether much would have changed, I’ll never know. I’m also thinking back to those early spring walks and noticing the colour returning to the world. Oddly, despite feeling so lost at that particular time, I really miss it.

I remember speaking to a friend when I first had my operation last year. He’d previously had heart surgery too and he told me that feeling like myself again was going to be a long process. Turns out he was right!

So, while the buds appear on the shrubs in the park and trees begin to go green once more, I’m looking back when I really need to look forward. Maybe I should take spring as my inspiration. Clearly, some kind of changes are needed.

Running: How a change of scenery can make all the difference.

If you’ve read my blog for any amount of time you’ll already be aware that I love running. It’s something I’ve done for most of my life and the older I get, the more kind of evangelical I can feel about it. Running clears my mind while also testing me to my limits. There’s a lot to love about that, as far as I’m concerned.

I’ve written quite a bit about running; from tips, to accounts of races and even reviews of books on the subject. Recently though, I got to thinking about motivation; what gets me out, what I enjoy the most, what keeps me going when I’m exhausted or even just not feeling quite right.

I didn’t come up with a whole host of factors, to be honest. In the main it’s sheer bloody-mindedness that keeps me going. I set a goal and refuse to give up. However, one thing I have realised is what a difference a change of scenery can make.

Essentially, I’m a creature of habit. I’m usually happy just running around various routes where I live. However, I’ve come to realise that the odd change of scenery can be quite inspiring too and nowadays it’s the kind of thing that gets me genuinely excited about going for a run.

I’m lucky with where I live. There are plenty of places where you can go for a reasonably quiet run and not have too many obstacles – gangs of teenagers, yappy dogs – to avoid. And if you like hills, then you’ll find plenty where I am! I can’t say I’ve always been a fan, but the more I put myself through it with those hills, the more I enjoy the challenge. But sometimes, the same few routes can get a bit monotonous.

A few years ago I started to do Parkruns and I enjoyed the change of scenery, even if the trails weren’t the most fun for me. It was at a local country park called Oakwell Hall, which I knew well anyway. But even though there are a few Parkruns local to me, I’ve still only ever done the one. I think it’s just the thought of getting up early on a Saturday and the drive to get there that keeps me away.

What really inspired me to seek out different places to run was taking my running gear on holiday when we went to Majorca about 6 years ago. Again, I knew the place fairly well. It was Puerta Pollensa and we’d been there a few times before. Having watched loads of cyclists setting off from our hotel every morning, I got to wondering what it would be like to get out and explore a bit, rather than just sitting around the pool. And so, one year I took my gear and went out midway through our week there.

It was an absolute game changer! I remember that it unusually hot and that the sky was incredibly blue with not a cloud to spoil it. It was April, but felt more like a hot summer’s day. I only ran for about 4 miles – in the end the heat got to me – but it felt wonderful. I could gaze up at the mountains as I went and take in the early Spring flowers that were out in force. For the first few miles I didn’t give a single thought to pace or how my body felt. And so I decided that I’d make this a regular holiday thing and subsequently managed a couple of more runs in Puerta Pollensa.

Since then, I’ve tried to add some occasional variety to my routes both at home and on holiday and it always inspires me. I’ve been to a few different places locally, exploring bits of other towns and villages and I always find that the change of scene concentrates my mind a little more. I often take photos on the way though, so it also slows me down a bit.

Further holidays have meant different runs too, some more challenging than others!

We usually head down to North Wales early in the summer holidays and running there is always a test as it’s just incredibly hilly. The scenery is amazing and there’s the added bonus of ending up on a beautiful beach, but when I’m dragging myself up those hills it’s hard to reconcile the sense of challenge against the feeling of liquid legs and a pounding heart. Heading off the roads and on to the beach; hearing the noise of the waves, passing the sand dunes and feeling the slight give of the sand under your feet is pretty special though.

I usually run 6 mile loop when I’m down there. It takes in 6 big steep hills (I so want to call them mountains!) as well as the downside to a few of them too, which is always a blessed relief. On the route there are views of some mountains, a golf course, some beautiful houses and even a llama farm! Believe me, there’s nothing quite like the sight of grazing llamas on a remote Welsh hillside to wake you up on a morning!

We took an Autumn break in October 2022 and I was really looking forward to going for a run. We were heading to Alcudia in Majorca and not only did it look beautiful, but it looked flat too. I couldn’t wait to get out there and follow any runs up with a long dip in the hotel pool! And then I collapsed in the airport which eventually led to me having heart surgery less than a month later! So, running in Alcudia remains on the ‘change of scenery’ list!

In the latter part of last year I managed two more runs in very different places. Firstly, on a trip home to Newcastle to see family and friends I got up especially early, having plotted out a route along the edges of a local industrial estate and ran a 10k. Not the greatest scenery ever, although there was a brief view of the Angel of The North, but it was the flattest run I’d done in ages meaning I could really have a go at a good time. It was also reasonably quiet, presumably because most of the factories and businesses had started work, so that was also quite nice – none of the usual fighting for pavement space or avoiding rogue dogs!

My last ‘away’ runs of the year came once again in Majorca. Following last year’s troubled break we went away again in early November determined to make the most of the break and knowing that I’d be able to take part much more than last time!

I managed to find a street map via Google and so planned out a route that I could take, looking it over several times in order to try and commit it to memory. It took in some of the quieter parts of town and some of the outskirts and more rural areas as well as a good portion of the sea front, so I was sure to have plenty of sights to take my mind off those aching legs!

As you’d expect, running in Majorca was hot, even in November, and so it made it fairly difficult, but the change of scenery worked its magic. In fact, it worked so well on my first run that I actually managed to get lost, running down what I thought was the right road before discovering it was a dead end after about half a mile and styling it out by turning round and running up the other side of the road as if that was what I’d intended all along!

The mistake meant that I was determined to get back out later in the week, just so that I could check out the bits of the route that I’d missed. And so, a couple of days later I set out again and managed a slightly quicker 5k while keeping the pace low enough to be able to take in every last one of the sights. So, not a serious bit of training, but a lot more interesting than my usual routes!

This year I plan to add more changes of scene to my running routine and have already signed up to a new race, with more to come. We’ll definitely be off on holiday too, so I’ll be making sure to take my gear with me. Aside from that I’d like to explore a few more places and have vague plans for some very early starts that will enable me to drive out to a few places and go running there. I haven’t settled on anywhere specific yet, but I won’t leave it long.

So, if you feel like you’re stuck in a rut with your running or just a little bit bored, try a change of scenery. It really can make all the difference!

The Pacemaker Diaries – One year on…

So it turns out that last week had a number of big days. Huge, in fact because last week marked a year since I had my pacemaker fitted.

I remember it well. Of course I do. At the beginning of that week I had realised that I was seriously ill. Even then, I didn’t know what the problem was – but it had been going on for months – and when I was admitted to hospital I still just thought they’d keep me in overnight and send me home with some tablets that would miraculously make everything alright again. My heart wouldn’t keep me awake at night. There would be no more listening for it and wondering if it had stopped.

The morning came and a lovely cardiologist disappointed me with his lack of tablets, then stunned me with his talk of a pacemaker. Despite protesting – “those things are for pensioners, man” – I was very quickly put in my place. “Put it this way, your heart stopped for over 4 seconds last night.” The other option was not to do it, but to lose my driving licence and then start worrying about my job. After all, it’s not normal or safe to be blacking out left, right and centre and I was told that this was likely.

“I think we’ll fit that pacemaker then!”

I laughed about it but I was crying inside. I was far too young for this. And I didn’t have a clue what it actually meant. At least I felt safe in the hospital, but it was a lot to take in. Still is.

The next day, just after 11am, I was wheeled down to theatre, talked through what was going to happen and then they just got on with it. The whole place was calm, jovial even. I was terrified. But do you know what, the more people singing along to the radio while performing your heart surgery, the more comforting it gets!

Later, back on the ward, there was the kind of drama that you never expect to be involved in, as my pacemaker failed and my heart monitor set off every alarm within a five mile radius. At least it felt that way. My heart decided it was time for yet another episode and the palpitations started with a vengeance. Doctors and nurses crowded around my bed, assuring me that help was on the way while I watched a monitor until my heartbeat hit 209bpm. At that point someone took the sensible decision of moving the monitor out of my eyeline.

It turned out fine. Someone from the cardiology department fixed it all online and in as much of a matter of fact way as was humanly possible. While I felt like I was quietly awaiting the grim reaper or a lovely warm light or whatever death looks like (various deceased comedy legends welcoming me ‘home’ and saying they’re my biggest fans?), him and his machine had “a chat with” my pacemaker. It worked.

The next day I was released back into the wild, not really knowing what awaited me. In truth, I didn’t really know if I could make it to the car without stopping for a rest. I imagined though that it might mean a couple of weeks off work. It was four months later that I finally went back.

It’s been a weird year. In some ways I feel worse than ever. It definitely did something to me, mentally and I do find it difficult to motivate myself. On the other hand though, I’m running regularly and actually feel fitter than ever. There have been three 10k races in the last 6 months or so and I feel like I’ve proved a bit of a point to myself. I’m still not quite convinced though.

I can feel my pacemaker every day. When I put on deoderant or have a wash, it’s there. Sometimes, I catch it a bit and it hurts. Occasionally, when I’m carrying a box or something of any decent size, it might rebound on to my chest and boy does it sting! The wires sit there, just above my scar and the pacemaker and they’re right there, just underneath the surface of my chest. Place a finger there and it’s almost like you could pluck them out with a little bit of effort. Not that I’m encouraging anyone to try! I think this is a consequence of me not being very well built; another reason to curse my body! And if you look closely, through my lustrous chest hair, you can actually see the outline shape of the pacemaker itself. How attractive!

There have been no more scares though. No more lying awake at night listening to my heart and wondering what it’s doing. So, the pacemaker is actually a comfort. My heart works which is rather nice.

For a long, long time I was fatigued. I felt like I’d never get better or feel like myself again. My body seemed to take an age to come to terms with what had happened. Coming off beta-blockers helped, but didn’t solve it. From my third day back at home I was going for a daily walk. At first, it was just 10 minutes, but being as bloody-minded as I am I worked that upwards as quickly as I could. But I’d be capable of very little else once I was done and days would simply drift past. Months later, when I felt capable to run a short distance, it would take the rest of the day to recover. In short, for months I just felt terrible. My body ached and I generally felt exhausted. I’d be out of breath easily and immensely frustrated by this.

It’s really not an exaggeration to say that this last year has been a real battle. I’ve felt incredibly low at times – and still have periods like that to this day – and I’ve had to work really hard to keep myself going. I’ve suffered with terrible bouts of sadness, that I didn’t imagine would be possible for me; not just feeling sorry for myself, but genuinely feeling sad, tearful and lonely about life and how things were turning out. The pacemaker made me angry and in truth, I still can’t get my head around the fact that I have to have it.

I regularly remind myself of how lucky I am though. It’d be too easy to just sort of give up and feel sorry for myself. I was almost discharged from hospital before I’d even got to a ward. Only a last minute check showed any kind of problem and only when a senior cardiologist had looked at it all properly was it decided that I had to have a pacemaker. I was actually minutes from going home, so who knows what could have happened? Clearly, I’m lucky though. I’m still here, my quality of life is good and although there are still one or two flutters with my heart now and again, I’m fairly confident that my pacemaker has it all covered!

What I’ve learnt over the course of the last 12 months is that it’s going to take me a while to recover fully and to feel like I’m back to my normal self again. I was ill for months before I got treated – my own fault because I hid what was wrong. But I think that has taken its toll. As I said earlier, I still struggle mentally but I don’t have as many low periods as before. Normal life with work and everything else has helped. But I’ve learnt that I really do have the strength to come back from adversity. Maybe, in another year’s time I’ll have consigned pacemaker diaries to the back of my mind. Maybe.

Hopefully, the future is a bit happier and healthier! Maybe I’ll get to change my tune and write about that instead!

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Running: The Morley 10k, 2023.

Last Sunday, the 8th October saw the second ever Morley 10k race. It marked a quite significant date for me personally too though, as it was almost 11 months since I had the heart surgery to have my pacemaker fitted.

It’s been something of an eventful (almost) year. Sadly more downs than ups too, but all of that has been well documented in other blog posts throughout the last 11 months. However, when I was in hospital I made a vow that I’d complete at least three 10k races by the time my one year pacemaker anniversary came around. Sunday was the third and it was significant because it had also been the last one I’d done before everything went wrong for me in October and November of last year. Here’s how it went.

I felt sick with nerves as I stood on the start line. My family were a only few metres away on the pavement and on more than one occasion it crossed my mind to go and join them and tell them that I couldn’t do the race. People felt too close, it was too warm and the hill that we were starting on looked as daunting as hell, even though I’d ran it countless times before. The day before I’d been genuinely excited about it, but now, around an hour and 10km away from the finish line almost everything was telling me just to walk home.

Start lines of races can be funny things for me. Sometimes, I stand there feeling genuinely intimidated. Everyone seems fitter and younger than me. They’ve got much better trainers. And when I’m feeling particularly sorry for myself, none of them have health problems like me, either. Stupid really, but that’s how it can be. On other occasions, you get the feeling that everyone wants everyone else to have the race of their life. The excitement is palpable and the atmosphere is infectiously positive.

Thankfully though, I talked myself out of any silly decisions and got myself across the start line bang on 9am!

It’s a hilly course and while I won’t talk you through every step, there’s a lot to talk about and almost all of it involves running. Firstly, quite a few of the town came out to show their appreciation of the nine hundred and odd of us who thought it was a good idea to be up and running so early on a Sunday morning. Perhaps they were a bit bewildered by it all and who could blame them, but I really hope that the event grows and grows and becomes a staple for both runners and residents, because it was genuinely lovely to see people out cheering us on and from a personal point of view, it’s a real boost. I still don’t believe the stewards who shout out stuff like, ‘You’re looking good!’ as I pass, but by God their positivity helps! For the record though, I generally look like a tall, skinny bloke whose head has been replaced by a sweaty red balloon when I’m running, so cheers to anyone who puts a positive spin on that!

On Sunday, it quickly became apparent that my legs weren’t feeling too powerful. If you’ve seen them, you’ll know why! But I’d put the training in; plenty of runs, lots of hills, lots of 10ks and lots of other exercise. So, it was a bit of a puzzle, but I just put it down to my mood more than anything else and tried to relax as best I could.

Having got through the first long climb, we turned right and ran through Morley town centre and then down the hill towards Morley Bottoms. The flat and the downhill was much appreciated and gave me the chance to gather my thoughts a little bit, as well as picking up a little bit of pace. By the time we came to another long climb I was well into my running and it felt like I was coping well. It helps knowing the route so well, although I hadn’t ran it this year in preparation, but I’d had plenty of practice at hills as it can feel like that’s all Morley is at times!

Once we’d climbed said hill it was time to double back on ourselves and the race takes to the other side of the road and back down again. By this point several of the leaders had long since passed us as well as probably a couple of hundred others who all looked like they were coping better than me! I opened my stride a bit on the downhill section and, realising that we had at least a mile of downhill or flat sections, decided that it was time to start finding a bit of pace. Halfway back down the hill I spotted something on the other side, still climbing the hill that spurred me on even more – someone running in a T-Rex suit! Dodgy heart or not, I was not being caught by that!

I knew that picking up the pace could be a risky strategy though. I didn’t feel quite right and was wary of simply running out of steam by the end when, surprise surprise, you head up a really steep incline to the finish. That said, I knew my family would be waiting anxiously at the end of this section, given my health issues and so I felt it was better to get to them sooner rather than later.

Morley Bottoms on race day is fantastic. Just a wall of noise and smiling faces. It felt great to run through and although I couldn’t see my family for a while, I spotted them eventually and gave them the thumbs up as I actually wasn’t feeling too bad. Shortly after passing them was the halfway point and knowing the route, it felt like the end was almost in sight.

My plan from the start was to try and run around 55 minutes, but it wasn’t long before the pacer had passed me. However, by the time we’d got to around 4 and a half miles I’d caught him again. Sadly, as we began to climb another hill, I lost him once more! I stayed optimistic by reminding myself that the T-Rex still hadn’t caught me though!

By the time I got to Morley Bottoms for the second time and almost the finish, the place seemed to have got even louder and more enthusiastic. I was feeling genuinely sick though, so the noise and the fact that a couple of people – cheers Steve and the lass that I didn’t recognise! – called out my name, which again was a timely boost. I was almost there.

The hill up from Morley Bottoms turned into my own personal Everest! It’s so steep! Virtually all strength drained away from my legs straight away and it was a case of just keeping moving. I almost convinced myself to stop and walk, but kept going as there was so much encouragement and I was utterly relieved to reach the point where it evens out a bit.

As we passed the town hall I heard my family before I saw them and again it provided a timely boost. Bizarrely, it prompted a sprint finish from me too, something I didn’t realise I had in my locker any more at my age. The heart didn’t matter, the tired legs and aching body were of no concern and by the time I crossed the line I was catching the few people in front of my having gone past one or two in the last hundred yards!

I thought I’d be emotional, but wasn’t. I was just elated. The time wasn’t quite what I wanted, but it wasn’t half bad for a bloke with a dodgy heart and pipe cleaners for legs. And anyway, when everyone looks so pleased and the whole town is out cheering you on, it’s kind of difficult to start crying in front of the post office!

So clutching my medal and my bag of sweets – they’d ran out of water, apparently – I scanned the crowd until I found my family again, reassured the kids I was ok, had some photos taken and then we all wandered off happily back down the inevitable hill to go home.

Big thanks to Morley Running Club for everything they do to put this brilliant event together. Same time next year?

The Pacemaker Diaries – summer’s been a bummer.

A bit of a cathartic post, this one. I’m aware that I’ve written a lot about my heart surgery last year and I’m aware of the fact that it might just be getting boring. It’s getting that way for me too. But despite my many quiet vows to not let the pacemaker define me, it’s kind of a tough one that! So this post is sort of cathartic because it allows me to vent my frustrations as well as publicly celebrate my successes, however minor they might have been.

So, my recovery continues. I’m still very aware of my pacemaker; you can literally see it when I take my top off (steady ladies), there’s a scar that looks red raw when I’ve done any exercise and more than anything else, I can just feel it sitting there in my chest. It doesn’t hurt or anything like that, but it does get sore after exercise or if I’ve had to take on any lifting.

Thankfully though, I’m now running regularly. I manage to get out twice a week and have been pretty much exclusively running 10ks recently in preparation for an upcoming race. That race is the Morley 10k, which I ran in October of last year before collapsing a few weeks later and then finding myself in hospital a few weeks after that. So all the omens are good! At the time of running it, I felt good and strong and despite the fairly undulating course and the fact that I was actually very poorly, managed a time of 54 minutes! I don’t think I’ll get anywhere near that this time around!

That said, for a recent hilly 10k that I ran around town, I clocked a time of under 57 minutes, so I’m not actually too far short of pushing for a similar sort of time as last year. Maybe, with a decent tail wind for the last couple of miles, I can achieve something worth shouting about. It would certainly help me get past the whole ‘woe is me and my pacemaker ‘ thing!

My body continues to frustrate me though. As far as I’m concerned, I’m out of shape and carrying a bit of a belly, although my wife tells me I’m being ridiculous. When I’m feeling more rational I can put the aches, the pains and the belly down to middle age, but I still feel unhappy with it and I’m fairly sure that had I not had the health issue that I’ve had, I would be in a lot better shape physically. Four months off work with nowhere near enough exercise and far too much snacking has clearly taken its toll and I’m struggling to get back into shape.

I found summer really tough and for long periods felt as low as I can remember ever feeling. As is my habit, I tried to hide it from everyone and seemed to be getting away with just being labelled occasionally grumpy, but if I’m honest, I just couldn’t cope with it. Running kept me sane and when I was out on those early mornings I hardly had a care in the world. But at home, on holiday, visiting family, I just felt awful. It wasn’t anyone else’s fault. I felt impatient with those around me and angry at what’s gone on since last year with my health. In terms of recovery, being so frustrated and angry really doesn’t make things easy and I’ve genuinely felt like I couldn’t move on.

The peak of it came when I just felt I had to talk to someone. Not like me at all, but I knew I had to try. I tried repeatedly, but something always got in the way and then one afternoon while she was at work and I was at home, my wife called me about something and I just confessed to how incredibly sad I felt. She’s been brilliant!

Talking a lot has certainly lightened the load, but I’m still considering counselling or just joining some kind of support group. I did this when I first got my pacemaker as I really struggled with what felt like the injustice and the worry of it all and it did me the world of good to hear from other people in the same situation and just to share a few things.

Part of the reason for the summer being such a tough time was that I stepped down from coaching my junior football team. The club wanted me to get rid of 4 players in order to make space for others that they were dropping down to us from our A team and I just wasn’t going to do it. I hoped they’d see reason, but when they didn’t I walked away on principle. I’d always tried to be a totally inclusive coach and when the club decided to release players based on ability, that was enough for me. They tried to dress it up as something else, citing players commitment as a reason, but it simply wasn’t anything to do with it.

I’d coached the team for 7 years and loved it. It had always helped me with my physical fitness and mental health too and so to lose it hit me hard. I managed to get a couple of the players that were dropped fixed up with a new club, but the fact that I could no longer coach kids I’d coached for years and years – including my own son – knocked me for six and just deepened the sadness I was already feeling.

The issue dragged on a bit because parents were actually on my side and so there’s been a lot of complaints flying around. However, the club have actually emailed one of the parents of a lad who was dropped and told some rather creative lies about me while being incredibly loose with the truth about what actually happened. I could have got very angry, but I’ve just decided to leave it. If it makes people feel better about themselves to tell blatant lies, I haven’t really got the time for that in my life. Not at the moment. Talk about kicking a man when he’s down!

I still go to watch the team, as my lad still plays and most of the squad are still ‘my’ players, but I just won’t have anything to do with the people at the club now. One or two in particular should be thoroughly ashamed of themselves, but I guess that some people are just never in the wrong! Karma can be a bitch though, so we’ll wait and see!

For now, I’m just trying to be as positive about life and recovery as I can. I’ve thrown myself into work and whether I’m happy or not, I’m trying to be as positive as is possible. So, I’ve dug out my Disney teacher voice for the new year 7s so my natural grumpiness doesn’t scare them and I’m putting positive comments on our ClassCharts whenever I think someone’s done something good. I’m trying to make sure that I explicitly praise as many students as possible whenever they’ve gone beyond the ordinary and I’ve not sent one email about how pointless a meeting is yet! I’ve even been early for a few of them as well. Inner me’s not particularly fooled, but the positivity is genuinely helping. It probably sounds stupid, but while I’m being positive, I’m not being negative and not feeling sorry for myself. Does that make sense?

So life, as ever, is full of ups and downs. And while there are a few too many downs for my liking at the moment, I’m hoping to work my way out of the way I feel before the end of the year. In November I’ll have had a pacemaker for a whole year and if I’m honest, it is a comfort. As far as I can tell, the old issues with my heart are fixed. Now, however difficult I find it at times, it’s just time to get on with life again in the best way that I can.

Poetry Blog: ‘Routine’

It’s been a while since I wrote any poetry. Anything complete, that is. There are several pages of notes and drafts in various notebooks and on my phone, as it goes and I definitely need to find time to get some of them finished. I know that there are notes and stuff because I’ve just looked. Every so often when I look I find one that I remember little or nothing about, although they’re usually from some stage of my time at home recovering from heart surgery last year.

Today’s poem is one of them. On first view it looked more or less complete, but once I read it again I made a few changes and additions and came up with what’s below. It’s a poem about the frustration of the every day routine, when the every day routine is slow, dull and painful.

Routine

As the gulls cry above
they seem to mock you,
gliding as they do, freely,
uninterrupted across another slate grey sky
almost laughing at the state you're in.

Beneath there is no flight, no such freedom
as you struggle through the curtained drizzle,
checking your pulse, taking deep breath after deep breath,
careful to slow your steps 
and evermore conscious of how helpless you must look,
knowing that you will collapse like a man at the end of a month long expedition,
somewhat gasping and groaning at your discomfort,
but trying to hide your fatigue 
as you return indoors
where only the slow death march of daytime TV
and snacking await.
The beard, the boredom and the bitterness
that come with early onset uselessness slowly grow,
the ticking of every clock in the place 
the only soundtrack to both your thoughts and your days,
while you sit, restless, clueless about how this all came to pass.

I’ve no idea when this was written. It could have been any of several weeks where I just couldn’t see an end to the weakness and fatigue that I felt. What I do know is that I felt angry. Livid at the fact that while having a pacemaker fitted was undoubtedly essential for me, it came with no real warning. I never would have suspected that the palpitations and dizziness I’d been experiencing on and off for months would have needed anything more than tablets to be sorted out. Maybe that’s why I’m an English teacher and not a cardiologist!

While I’m still a little angry and frustrated, the days of freezing cold, lonely walks are long gone. And while I’m not as healthy as I’d like to be, I’m a lot better than whenever this was written.

I’m gradually coming to terms with the changes that surgery has brought about and slowly recovering, although I think it’s going to be a lot longer before I feel quite myself again. So the poem is reflective of the kind of bleak times that I rarely, if ever seem to have anymore, but it intrigued me when I found it.

Anyway, I hope it made for a decent, interesting read! Feel free to leave a comment.

The Pacemaker Diaries: Summer Edition!

It’s been a while since my last Pacemaker Diary entry, so with a bit of time to kill and a few tings to update, I thought I’d write another.

In my last entry, in April, I wrote about hitting a bit of a bump in the road. I’d had to abandon a run, was suffering with dizziness and a general feeling of tiredeness and just generally wasn’t really coping with the whole ‘adjusting to having a pacemaker’ thing. I’d been back at work for around a month and was beginning to feel like I might not make it through to summer.

https://middleagefanclub.wordpress.com/2023/04/09/the-pacemaker-diaries-weve-definitely-hit-a-bump-in-the-road/

Well, it’s now summer. Two weeks into the holidays to be precise and while I’m nowhere near as fit and healthy as I had been pre-pacemaker, I’m still slowly getting there. Obviously, this is incredibly frustrating. You might argue that I should have gotten used to how my body feels and reacts to things by now. After all, I had my pacemaker fitted about 9 months ago. But, dear reader, I’m not used to it and that’s all there is to it. Or rather, I am used to it but I still absolutely hate the whole idea of it! It’s wonderful to still be here and I’m eternally grateful to the NHS and the staff at the hospital that helped me through and indeed the ones that still help when I have some kind of appointment, but I can’t change how I feel.

The phrases “I’m getting there” and “It’s just going to take time” have become as much a comfort as they have a pain in the arse, but I have to just keep reminding myself – and sometimes others, who don’t seem to get it – that I am indeed getting there and that this whole process of feeling myself and feeling fit again is jus going to take time! Friends who’ve gone through the same or similar have told me on numerous occasions that they didn’t feel themselves again for a long, long time and I suppose I’m simply finding out about how true that is!

Anyway, enough of the moaning and moping. There are some positives to discuss!

For one, I’m still running. It’s been a while since I had to be mature and force myself to take a break and as a result my fitness is consistently okay. It’s not great, but it’s okay…didn’t Whitney Houston once sing about that or something similar? Perhaps, that’s not a good thing…

I’ve been uncharacteristically sensible about my running for the past 4 or 5 weeks and have built up my distances really steadily. So, perhaps I’m tempering my frustration and anger a little bit after all.

Having completed the Leeds 10k in late June I took a break and haven’t ran that distance since. Instead, when I got back out I settled for running just 5ks for a couple of weeks and then built the distance up from there. I still haven’t managed another 10k run, but I think I will do soon as I’m consistently running over 5 miles. There have been varying results pace-wise, but I’m feeling more than capable of getting round the distance. It’s still reeeaaallly frustrating to see how slow I’ve ran at times, but I just have to cope!

I ran while on holiday recently, taking on some huge hills in North Wales, while receiving curious looks from llamas on a local farm! I ran for 5 miles, finishing on the beach and felt fantastic afterwards, but I made sure that I gave myself lots of recovery time and didn’t go for a second run that week which was a relief and a bit frustrating in equal measure! However, the change of scenery and obvious challenge felt like it did me the world of good.

After every run I’m on to planning my next one and genuinely feeling like I can go further. I was out earlier this week and managed 5.3 miles and I’ll be out again this weekend. I’m hoping that this one can be my first 10k since June, but we’ll see how the body reacts over the next couple of days.

I managed to damage my lower back around a month ago and then just when I felt it was almost better, injured it again. The first time was while leaning out of my chair at work to pick up something I’d dropped and then the second time was while getting something out of a cupboard in the kitchen! Both dangerous and high stakes activities, I’m sure you’ll agree but as frustrating as this is I guess it just comes down to having a battered, middle aged body, so I’ll have to cope!

As part of getting my back better I’ve started doing yoga again. It was something me and my wife did years ago and both felt we benefitted hugely from it. But time constraints and a young family got in the way and it fell by the wayside. However, my wife recently suggested a few moves that might help my back and so yoga is back on the agenda. I’ve only managed a couple of very short sessions with the aid of my phone to keep me right on the positions, but I’m hoping it will start to help with my health. It’s a bit more complicated as anything that means putting weight or pressure on my left hand side results in my pacemaker digging into me, but I’d take that over palpitations and blackouts any time!

I’m also hoping that yoga will help with my mental health. I’ve had lots of support in recovering from surgery and adapting to this new almost constantly fatigued, old body. However, it’s still been incredibly tough and I’ve felt isolated and sad throughout. The running has helped as I’m alone with my thoughts and can resolve a lot of stuff while I’m out. But I’m hoping that yoga – however bitesized it might be – will help me feel a lot calmer and relaxed about things.

So, there we have it. I have my next 10k race planned for October and am wondering about entering another before that. Either way though, I’m just hopeful that I can stay fit and healthy for long enough to feel that I can go back to work again in September feeling a bit brighter about things and then have a real go at the October 10k. As ever though, it’s just nice to still be here, however difficult things might seem and however low I might get at times!