Remember, waaaaay back when I asked all you lovely people to help me raise money for Crohns and Colitis UK because I was running a half marathon?
I’m pretty sure you all must be wondering what happened.
Well first of all I’d like to thank you, because without your support I wouldn’t have been able to raise the figure I did which was
How amazing is that?!?! That’s just a little bit more money to fund some research into this disease. A little bit more money to help find a cure. A little bit more money to someone who may have this disease so badly that they can’t work and have no one to support them, that little bit of money might have gone to help buy them new bedsheets, or something that they really need to make life just that little bit easier.
So, with every fibre of my being, I thank each and every one of you who donated. Each and every one of you who promoted my page to help me raise this money. Each and every one of you who read my blog and may have thought a little bit differently about IBD and how people live with the disease. To each and every one of you who told your friends about what I was doing.
Thank you so much.
Did I run the race in the end?
No. I didn’t. Because guess what? The amazing disease decided that it didn’t want me to run the race and I, once again, flared.
I was um’ing and ah’ing about whether I would run the race anyway because it was the weekend before I flew out to Australia.
I had been struggling with getting training in because I was tired and the more mileage I would do, the more exhausted I became. I was worried that I would finish and complete the race but ultimately put myself back in hospital.
Now I have been wanting to get to Australia for years. I had made it a goal and it’s all I thought about. It was a very hard decision not to run the race because I really felt like I was letting people down. Everyone who donated, wanted me to run the race, how could I get people to donate their hard earned cash and not run?! I felt like I was cheating people and I did not want to do that.
Then I spoke to a friend of mine, who also has Colitis. This lovely man had donated a lot of money for what I was doing, and I spoke to him about how I felt and he made me see sense. Maybe it was the fact that he had put the most money in and he didn’t mind that I wasn’t running, or that he too had the disease and so knows where I am coming from.
Australia was my dream. How would I feel if I couldn’t go? I had finally booked my tickets and after three years of wanting this so badly, I was going. How would I feel if I had to wait another year because I ran a race that made me too sick to go?
I really appreciate the talk that we had, most probably more than he realises. Essentially I still feel bad that I didn’t run the race, however, I made my dream and am now living in Australia. I raised £410.00 for something extremely close to my heart and I will run a half marathon one day. I will run that race eventually for all the people who donated. I was just too unwell at the time.
That’s unfortunately a horrible part of having IBD. You make all these plans to do things, and then it rears its ugly head and pulls you under. It says, “Oh, you wanted to do this today? Well I say no. I say that you’re going to spend an epic time in the toilet today”
And bam, there you are in that toilet whilst IBD is laughing at you, and you’re sat there with a sore butt from too many toilet trips and a seriously messed up heart/head because you’re really gutted you couldn’t do whatever it is that you wanted.
As much as I try, I can’t plan my days. I can see this as a negative, or I can put a positive spin on it.
IBD forces me to take every day as it comes. Sure I do try to plan, I’m a Virgo, planning is ingrained in my soul, but essentially it makes me a lot more easy going.
I enjoy and appreciate the good days when I am feeling healthy enough to do what I have planned.
Essentially, that’s what you must do when you have a debilitating disease. You must take the bad, and find the positive, or essentially the bad will swallow you whole, and we don’t want this wretched disease to win now do we?