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Pewsey Terminator

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55 days to go…

After a couple of decent but uneventful weeks of marathon training I thought I’d mix it up this weekend with a race. Many of the training plans advise you to do a half marathon at around this time, but I thought I’d do something a bit different, so entered the Pewsey Terminator.

Although less than 12 miles, it’s definitely a much more challenging prospect than your average half marathon. Two water crossings, four fairly brutal climbs and lots and lots of mud meant that it more than lived up to its name.

The race starts in the beautiful Wiltshire village of Pewsey, just south of Marlborough, known mainly for the White Horse cut out of chalk on a hill about a mile south of the village.

The first four miles were relatively flat and fast, starting on the roads then running alongside the Kennet and Avon Canal. Except, that is, for the bit where you crossed a stream and quagmire which had one unfortunate runner up to his waist in mud. I wasn’t sure whether to laugh or wade in and help him, but ever the team player I chose the former and forged on ahead (although annoyingly he did catch me up after a mile or so).

At almost exactly five miles in the first climb started, which because of the soft ground felt much more than the 77m elevation gain my Garmin says it was. Just as it seemed to be levelling out, you were then made to go up a grass bank that was at least a one minute crawl to the top.

A very fast, and very slippy, downhill followed, and then another steep ascent and descent, shorter but also sharper than the last. After an undulating mile, the third climb came, which felt even steeper than the last two. There was then a nice flattish section, before the aptly named “sting in the tail”. Rather than head down and back towards Pewsey, the course went up another unfeasibly steep hill, around the White Horse (apparently, I was blowing too much to notice), then back down again at break-neck speed.

After the sting, the route home was fairly sedentary, except for one final bit of sadism. Rather than let the runners cross the little bridge coming into the town, the route instead goes through the river below it, which was at about knee height. Although tough on the legs, I actually found it quite refreshing, and saved me cleaning my shoes (Salomon Speedcross, in the unlikely event that you are interested).

It was a short squelch home after the river crossing, back to the village school which also hosted the start line and race HQ.

The race well supported given the grey, windy day, and the course was perfectly signposted and marshalled. In fact, everything about the race organisation was impeccable, from registration, to bag drop, to start and finish. In many ways it was far slicker than most of the big races I have done, but retained a friendly, homemade feel, which is some achievement given that there were over 400 runners on the course.

Adding to the homely atmosphere were the army of old ladies serving cakes and tea at the end. Most things taste good after 12 miles, but I’m sure that the cakes were the best I have had for a while (I had three, just to be certain).

If you want to know more about the race, you can see the route map, elevation profile and my timings on my Garmin Connect page, or go to the Pewsey Vale Running Club website for pictures and the all-important results.

As you will be able to tell from the above, I would strongly recommend the race. I’ll be back*, that’s for sure.

*Sorry, couldn’t resist.

It Starts

97 Days to Go

After three weeks off and a typically over-indulgent Christmas period, the hard work has begun, as I’m now two weeks in to my London Marathon training. Last week was slow, but I managed to do 30 miles this week, including a hill sprint session and an icy 11 miler along the river yesterday morning.

I’ve been pleasantly surprised by the lack of damage caused by yuletide festivities, so all in all I’m off to a promising start.

I’ve also started my fundraising drive for MQ, so if you would like to sponsor me please follow this link. If you do, you will help fund critical research into a wide range of mental health conditions, including anxiety, depression, ADHD, autism and PTSD.

Many of MQ’s research projects relate to young people, including its latest study on the link between bullying and mental health. Despite the fact that, on average, three children in every class have a diagnosable mental health condition, 7 out of 10 young people do not get sufficient help.

In terms of my own issues, the most interesting statistic is that 75% of those with a mental health condition start developing it from an early age. It is thought that bipolar (if that is what I have) can have genetic, biological and environmental factors, so it may be that I have always had it, was always going to have it, or some biological pre-disposition may have been triggered by one or a number of life events. It certainly became more of an issue after I had my first child, but I’ve always had the feeling that there was something not right with me.

With hindsight, it is tempting to attribute certain feelings or actions to mental illness (in fact, I tend to use bipolar as an excuse for every time that I’ve acted like a dick), but I guess there is no way of knowing for sure. I definitely should have received medical help before I did, but how early? Could the breakdown have been predicted, or even prevented, and if so when? The latter seems unlikely, taking into account another MQ statistic – that on average it takes 10 years for an accurate bipolar diagnosis, so I’ve still got a long way to go.

By donating to MQ you can help answer some of these, and many many other important questions on mental health issues, so here’s the link again.

THE Marathon (Finally)

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“If you want to run, run a mile. If you want to experience
a different life, run a marathon” – Emil Zatopek

So, after 10 years of trying my luck with the ballot, I’ve finally bitten the bullet and applied for, and received, a charity place for the London Marathon.

Berlin may be faster, Tokyo more exotic, New York bigger and Boston more prestigious, but for me London has always been THE marathon. I’ve watched the TV coverage every year since I was a kid and it’s never failed to inspire me. Whether it’s the pros running a marathon at a quicker pace than I can run a mile, the touching and often tragic stories of first-timers, the costumes, the incredible support or that one of the busiest cities in the world comes to a standstill for a running race, it’s been near the top of my to-do list even before I became a running addict.

The 2017 race is going to be particularly meaningful for me, as I’ve just moved out of the greatest city in the world, after living there for the whole of my adult life. Moreover, I’m going to be representing, and hopefully raising large sums of money for, a cause that means a huge amount to me.

I’ve already written a little about my mental health identity crisis – that I’ve not, and probably never will be, definitively diagnosed with bipolar disorder, despite basing a whole blog on it.

It is as fascinating as it is frustrating to me that a doctor can’t do a brain scan or a blood test, give me a label and pack me off with some drugs that they know will make things better, like they can with so many other conditions. I would love to get rid of the constant self-doubt that comes with not knowing what I’m dealing with, or whether I’m just putting it all on.

This relative lack of understanding must also be a cause of misdiagnosis, or (at least in my case) non-diagnosis. For me it has also led to a fair amount of experimentation with different treatments, some of which have made my condition worse.

Although the brain is undoubtedly the most complex organ in the human body, part of the reason for this lack of understanding has to be down to the comparative lack of research.

Incredibly, despite the fact that one in four people experience mental illness each year, mental health research only receives 5.8% of the UK’s total health research spend. And it’s not just the State – for every £1 spent by the Government on mental health research, the public donates just 0.3p, compared to £2.75 for cancer research.

This is why I’m running for MQ. MQ is a charity that funds crucial research into the nature, causes, diagnosis, prevention, treatment and cure of all forms of mental illness. Its vision is to create a world where mental illness is understood, effectively treated, and ultimately prevented. Set up in 2013, it’s already funding research projects into a wide range of mental illnesses, using a variety of methods, undertaken by scientific institutions all over the world.

I’ll be setting up a fundraising page shortly, and will be posting, tweeting, texting, emailing and shouting the link. I’ll also be posting training updates and further information about MQ, together with my usual meanderings.

It’s Been a While…

“I run because I am a runner. I am a runner because I run”
– Paula Radcliffe

As I am sure you’ve noticed (I assume it’s all you’ve been thinking about), this will be my first post in over two months. To be honest I’ve been struggling a little, both physically and mentally.

As I mentioned in my last post, the December to February period is always tough for me, like many others that suffer with depression. I guess it is no coincidence that the breakdown occurred around this time of year.

It’s also no coincidence that for the last three winters I’ve been struggling with injuries, although this year’s has to be the most irritating, despite being the least serious. Every time I ran, I’d get a sharp pain in my left knee, which would carry on for a day or so, and then disappear.

As the eagle-eyed amongst you will have noticed, the last sentence was in the past tense, as it looks like I’ve finally got over what was diagnosed by Mike (my ever reliable and ever patient physio) as an overloaded patella tendon. I managed 30 miles this week, and now I’m starting to get into serious training for the Endurancelife Pembrokeshire Coastal Trail Ultra at the end of April.

So serious in fact, that I’ve even got myself a coach. As a result of the best present anyone has ever given me (thanks to Mrs Up & Down Runner), I’ve got a bespoke training plan and all the advice I need from one of the UK’s best ultra runners, Robbie Britton.

In just six years Robbie has gone from running his first marathon to finishing third in the IAU 24 Hour World Championship, which involved 24 hours running around a track (he did an insane 261.14km, in case you’re wondering). It will be five years since my first marathon in May, so he has (and I guess I have) a lot of work to do in not a lot of time. That is me and Robbie above, at the start line of the Cappadocia Ultra Trail back in October.

Robbie took time out of his hectic schedule between winning the Arctic Ice Ultra and competing in a cross-country skiing race to talk to me on Friday night, and I now have the first two weeks of my training plan. Although it must mean a lot more work for him, designing my plan in two week chunks, and constantly adapting it in the meantime, rather than just giving me 12 weeks worth of training runs to get on with, has to be the best approach, and the only one that can work with a busy work and family life.

He’s started me off pretty steadily, so only time will tell whether I am as positive about the whole thing after I do the promised continuous 1 minute hill reps later in the plan…

So, after what seems like forever, I’ve finally re-discovered the love of running, meaning that you will hopefully be hearing much more from me over the coming months.

Before I sign-off for now, I just wanted to say a big thank you for everyone that voted for me in the RunUltra blogger awards. Although I didn’t win, I am incredibly proud to even have been shortlisted, particularly given the quality of the other blogs. You can find more details about the awards, and the very worthy winners, here.

RunUltra Shortlisted for Blogger Awards_logo

New Challenges

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language
And next year’s words await another voice
And to make an end is to make a beginning”
– Little Gidding, T.S. Eliot

It’s been a month since my last post, the longest gap since I started the blog, and to be honest I’ve lost my mojo a little, both for writing and running.

The running is easy to explain, as I’ve actually been injured since completely the Ultra at the end of October. I shouldn’t complain really, as it’s nothing serious, just an inflammation of the knee, and some kind of protest from my body was inevitable after Cappadocia. It is a very annoying niggle though, as it seems fine until about two miles in and then hurts for the next three days.

This also partly explains the lack of writing, so affected by a lack of exercise is my mental state. As I’ve said before, running is a big part of my coping mechanism for depression, and is also a bona fide addiction. I’m always a terrible patient, but the timing of the injury is particularly unfortunate.

This time of year is tough for many people, and is a common issue for sufferers of depression. For me, it’s a decidedly unholy mix of lack of light, miserable weather, pressured work environment, bad diet and too much mandatory socialising. Not being able to run off the stress, mince pies and booze makes me anxious and sluggish, both mentally and physically, which then makes me want to eat and drink more.

I think that I’m also still struggling with a bit of post-race comedown. Isn’t it ironic (to quote Alanis Morissette), that the thing that is instrumental in keeping me sane also contributes to my downfall. This is the inherent contradiction for me with running, as I tried to explain in my article for the CALM website; part cure, part problem, part symptom and part positive side-effect.

Before every race I’m fooled into thinking that a post-run break from training will be a relief, that not having to worry about miles and what I’m eating and drinking will be relaxing. I’m not sure whether it’s the same for everyone with depression in general, or bipolar in particular, or whether it is just a personal thing, but what I have come to realise is that I need the structure and the discipline.

Anyway, now that I have filled you with Christmas spirit, I have at least used this time to plan my races for next year. I’ve decided to go for the ultra and mountain marathon combo again, and I’m already excited about both races.

The first, on 30 April, will be the Endurancelife Pembrokeshire Coastal Trail Ultra. It’s 34.8 miles through the UK’s only coastal National Park. On the day there is also a marathon, half and 10km, and the event is part of a nine race series across the UK. Endurancelife has a great reputation as an event organiser, so I’m expecting big things.

The second race is the Marato Dels Cims, at the Andorra Ultra Trail Vallnord. Like the Marathon du Mont Blanc, it’s an alpine marathon, but with over 3,000m of ascent in the 26.4km course, it is going to be quite a bit tougher. It looks flippin’ beautiful though, which will hopefully get me through.

Before I go, I also wanted to shamelessly ask you to vote for me in the 2016 RunUltra Blogger Awards, which I have made the shortlist for. I’m very proud of this, as RunUltra is a fantastic website (check it out if you haven’t already), so thank you to everyone for reading this blog and helping me get this far. You can vote by following this link: http://www.runultra.co.uk/News/December-2015/Shortlist-for-the-RunUltra-Blogger-of-the-Year-Awa.aspx

Cappadocia

“Struggling and suffering are the essence of a life worth living. If you’re not pushing yourself beyond the comfort zone, if you’re not demanding more from yourself – expanding and learning as you go – you’re choosing a numb existence. You’re denying yourself an extraordinary trip.”
Dean Karnazes – Ultra Marathon Man: Confessions of an all-night runner

And what an extraordinary trip it was. After 11 months of planning, training, stressing, talking, blogging, tweeting and generally going on about it, I finally got to line up at the start line for, and (spoiler alert) complete, the Cappadocia Trail 60km.

It’s taken me a couple of weeks to write this as I wanted to do it justice, and to be honest I’ve been struggling to find the words to describe the experience. I think that I’ve also been putting it off because the reason for starting the blog in the first place has now gone, so this post is an ending of sorts, and I hate saying goodbye.

This is a bit silly really, as I’m going to keep the blog going, and am already planning what I am going to do next, including looking at races in exotic locations like Patagonia, Andorra, the Canary Islands and, er, Evesham. but they all seem very far away now.

Anyway, back to Cappadocia. The weekend started very well, if not a little dauntingly, as I met two Brits that were hoping to win the 110km Ultra Trail – Robbie Britton (@ultrabritton, pictured below) and Paul Radford (@PaulJRadford), together with seasoned trail runner Ben Cox (aka Papa Ferret, @trailferret) and potential winner of the 60km Natalie White (@natsmountain). A great thing about participating in a niche sport like ultra running is that you get to rub shoulders with, and get tips from, seasoned pros, and rather than looking down on newbies, experienced competitors always seem genuinely pleased that another person has found the sport. There also appears to be wonderful camaraderie among ultra runners, perhaps because of the difficulty of the challenge ahead, with professionals in most cases finding the race as tough as first-timers.

So, with my head filled with sage advice, and belly filled with carbs from the pasta party laid on by the organisers the night before, and the breakfast laid on by the hotel at 5am, I set off for the race of my life, thankfully avoiding the spectacular, and probably very expensive drone crash just after the start line.

The first few miles were fairly gentle, particularly as I stuck with some 110km runners (the 110km Ultra Trail started at the same time and followed the same course as my race) to avoid the temptation to go off too fast. Things got a lot tougher about 45 minutes into to the race though, in large part because it started tipping it down. The course got progressively more difficult too, with wide open plains turning to tight wooded trails. That said, it would have been nowhere near as challenging as Mont Blanc, had it not been for the rain, which turned parts of the course into fast running streams and put many a better runner than me on their arse.

Unlike many such better runners, I actually really enjoyed the rain, and definitely now understand why kids, and Peppa Pig, love splashing in muddy puddles (still don’t get me started on Daddy Pig though). I also felt very smug that I took the organisers’ advice and wore proper trail shoes (Salomon Speedcross 3, in case you’re interested). The terrain during this part of the race also made it interesting, with the odd cave to crouch through, fallen tree to climb over, ladder to climb up or down or crying dog to avoid.

Before I knew it I was past the third checkpoint at 35km and, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I couldn’t work out whether I was pleasantly surprised by the relative lack of ascent and descent, or missing the up & down of Mont Blanc. By this time it had stopped raining though, my thoughts were diverted by the breathtaking and other-worldly scenery. Although the internet tells me that it is not the case, and the internet is always right, I still can’t quite believe that Tatooine is not Cappadocia (Tatooine being Luke Skywalker’s home planet, in case you’re not a Star Wars fan).

CSI4drlWcAAiTxo.jpg-large Shortly after checkpoint 4 I definitely was not missing uphills, as they had kindly laid on a monster hill for us. Thankfully, I met another experienced and inspiring ultra runner, Lucja Leonard (aka Running Dutch, @Runningdutchie), who took my mind off my aching legs and kindly took the photo on the right.

Once the climb was over with there was a fairly long but stunning stretch along a ridgeline, and then an uninspiring few kilometres into Urgup. The finish line somewhat crept up on me, so I barely had time to look for Camilla and make my sprint finish.

I completed the race in 8 hours and 22 minutes, well under my 9 hour estimate, which I am incredibly proud of. More importantly, I can now properly call myself an ultra runner. Perhaps I am not so much of a fraud after all…

High 5,000

“Character cannot be developed in ease and quiet. Only through
experience of trial and suffering can the soul be strengthened,
ambition inspired and success achieved.” – Helen Keller

As you will know if you follow me on Facebook or Twitter (@updownrunner), on Monday I reached two milestones, both of which I am still struggling to get my head around.

Firstly, and most importantly, I hit and then quickly exceeded my £5,000 fundraising target. To have raised this much for two incredible charities, CALM and Mind, which have been and continue to be instrumental in coping with my mental illness, makes me even more certain that the training has been all worthwhile. To meet my target just two days before World Suicide Prevention Day made it all the more special.

Coincidently, on the very same day, updownrunner.com reached 5,000 hits. I didn’t expect to have 500 hits in 4 months, or even a year, when I first confessed to Camilla that I was thinking of starting a blog. Honestly, I am about as shocked as I would be if my Dad told me he was pregnant (although to be fair he is a large man, sorry Dad). This has come from 2,600 odd visitors, so nearly half of you have come back more than once, which is a relief.

So, if you’re reading this (you obviously are reading this), and/or have donated, you can be safe in the knowledge that you’ve helped my recovery more than I can express in words.

On the training front, I’ve managed to get some decent miles in, and also did a very enjoyable 13 miler on the trails up, down and around the Malvern Hills with James. The Malverns are ridiculously near to where I spent the first 18 years of my life, and are about as close to picture-perfect England as you can get, but shamefully it was only the second time that I had been to the tops.

Finally, without wishing to sound greedy, I’m now looking to hit £6,000, so if you’d like to help me get there, you can donate quickly and easily by following this link.

Inside Out

“Life isn’t just addition and subtraction. There’s also accumulation,
the multiplication, of loss, of failure.”
– Julian Barnes, The Sense of an Ending

It’s been another uneventful running week, which is mainly because I’ve been on a crash diet to shift a few pounds before the serious training starts. I’ve been doing the Clean 9 which, if you haven’t heard of it, is like a hardcore Slim-Fast, where you also drink shower gel (alright, aloe vera gel). You also have to cut out all caffeine, alcohol and refined sugar, the former being particularly difficult for a coffee-addict like me.

I don’t really need to lose that much weight but, as you may have noticed, I am very much an all-or-nothing person, so decided that a short-sharp shock would be the way to go. Apart being extremely hangry for the first three days, it’s made me feel pretty good, and has definitely worked.

As it’s been quiet, I’ve decided to do my first and last movie review. We took the kids to see the new Disney/Pixar film Inside Out this weekend, which is set in the mind of Riley, an 11 year-old girl, the main characters being her five emotions – Joy, Sadness, Anger, Disgust and Fear. The plot revolves around her family’s move to San Francisco, and how her emotions react to the upheaval.

I’m a massive Toy Story fan (genuinely and unashamedly think it is one of the best films ever made), but I think Inside Out may be as funny, exciting and moving, if not more. It has a brilliant cast (including Amy Poehler, Mindy Kaling and Bill Hader), is meticulously researched, gorgeously animated, intelligently written and, like Toy Story, has some great set-pieces and one-liners for adults as well as children.

Most impressively though, it expresses some of the most complex abstract concepts, such as the birth and development of human consciousness, personality and the self, explains how important emotions like sadness and fear are and why a person can’t be happy all of the time in an ingenious, simple and truly beautiful way. If nothing else, it is hands-down the most thought provoking kids’ movie I have ever seen.

Although it seems like all of the reviewers agree that it is a fantastic film, it obviously struck a chord with me, and got me imagining what the inside of my mind would look like, compared to Riley and her parents’. Each of the three had one controlling emotion, Joy for Riley, Anger for her dad, and Sadness for her mum, although in the adults’ brains all of the emotions had a lot more control over the body’s reactions. For me, I’m pretty sure that in my mind there is a constant power-struggle among Joy, Sadness and Fear, which regularly turns into a punch-up (sometimes allowing Anger to sneak in and take over).

Actually, not long after we first met, Camilla had an iPod case that had cartoon monkeys banging cymbals, dancing and playing drums and other instruments. I used to tell Camilla that it was a depiction of the inside of her brain (jokingly, of course), so I am going to take some, if not all of the credit for the concept of the film.

One of the most interesting questions that I’ve been mulling over is whether everyone would start out with Joy as the dominant emotion, particularly as the things that make my two year-old Caspar happy include looking at dogs, smelling beer (don’t ask), anything to do with poo and Peppa Pig (don’t get me started on that knobhead Daddy Pig). From speaking to my parents, however a mix of Fear and Sadness may have been in control of my young mind, and that is certainly true of the teenage me. Mind you, this is probably also the case for most 15 year olds.

As you only see Riley’s development, the film does not express whether sadness or anger had always been in charge of mum or dad’s mind, or whether it changed over time. What is definitely clear from the film though, illustrated by the increased size of mum and dad’s “control consoles” as opposed to Riley’s rudimentary operating system, is that with maturity comes greater control and balance of all of the emotions. Unfortunately, some of us just need a little bit of help to keep the status quo…

Liguria

“Correr es la mejor medicina que existe”*
– Haile Gebrselassie

I’ve been on holiday with the family for the last couple of weeks in Italy, staying in a tiny village called Velva in the Ligurian Apennines. Unbeknownst to me (honest), the villa we were in was on the Giro d’Italia route, and had well signposted trails, perfect for a trail runner with no sense of direction. What’s more, the trails were as beautiful and challenging as Mont Blanc, particularly as they were overgrown with brambles and full of loose rocks. In the six mile route I followed, I dropped down into the valley below Velva and back up to Missano, then back to Velva on the road. Velva itself doesn’t appear to have changed since it was built into the hillside in the 13th century, and until I got to Missano, the only semblance of human life I saw were a couple of long-abandoned buildings. I also ran into a stag again, much more timid this time (still not a sign, you’re not getting me that easily). The photos really don’t do it justice.

Not sure whether it was the new medication working, the trails or being on holiday (probably a mix of the three), I’m feeling much better than when I last posted. Far be it from me to question Haile, but although I’m not sure that running is the best medicine, it is definitely a very effective one.

Velva, Liguria Velva war heroes

* Running is the best medicine

Just a Marketing Gimmick?

“Trails are like that: you’re floating along in a Shakespearean
Arden paradise and expect to see nymphs and fluteboys, then
suddenly you’re struggling in a hot broiling sun of
hell and dust and nettles and poison oak…just like life”
– Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bums

As you will have noticed, I’ve not posted for a while. Alright, you probably haven’t, I’m not getting delusions of grandeur, at least not regularly.

After the race I took a training break, so apart from a run in Seattle (I only managed the one – the beer is too good there), and blacking-out in Sydenham while trying to run off a virus, not much has happened in the last few weeks.

I did do a sub-19 minute 5km race at the start of July (The Great City Race, again), which I should’ve been happy with, but as I missed out on a PB by 8 seconds, despite starting near the front, I’m still a bit annoyed about it.

I also won an entry into the Snowdonia Trail Marathon, and race gear from Scott (massive thanks to Scott and Climbers Shop in Cumbria), but annoyingly I forgot that I’d entered and couldn’t make the race, so gave the place to James and shared the kit with him. I did keep the free shoes though, mainly because they were called “Trail Rocket”, and from what I’ve seen so far this is a fair description. I wasn’t that sorry to miss the race, particularly because of the torrential rain (see picture of James below) and because James, as a former local, got a far better time than I ever could, which I’m claiming as a result for team Up & Down Runner, and therefore me.

To be honest though, the main reason for not writing is that I’ve not been feeling great recently; a combination of inevitable post-race comedown, not looking after myself properly and, well…if I knew exactly why then I wouldn’t need the drugs.

Talking of drugs, I was corralled by Camilla into seeing the psychiatrist again, because of my volatile moods, extreme forgetfulness (see above) and because I’ve developed a side-effect (whether of the meds or old age) of falling asleep at the slightest provocation. Great on long haul flights, not so good in meetings, or while driving…

The outcome of my session was more medication on top of the two that I’m already taking, which I think now means I’m officially on a “cocktail” of drugs. On the other hand, maybe I already was, as, after all, a martini, screwdriver and snakebite only have two ingredients. Perhaps the latter is stretching the definition of “cocktail” too far – can’t see Bond ordering it shaken or stirred, unless he was in a student bar Bristol in 2000, and it was my round (unless he fancied a Southern Comfort and Lemonade instead).

Sorry, got side-tracked. Actually, the most important thing that came from my session with the doctor was that he has, CONFESSION ALERT, never definitely diagnosed me with bipolar disorder.

Although many of my symptoms support the diagnosis, and I am on medication used to treat bipolar, which seem to be working on the whole, I am not quite bipolar enough for a certain decision.

This is the story of my life – got the basics right, work hard and show a lot of promise, but don’t quite have the flair to get to the top. As I said in my first post, if I do indeed have bipolar disorder, I am the most boring sufferer in history, unless my “Maserati moment”, as Dr. Craig calls it, is still to come.

The other issue, which is more general, and far more interesting, is that in many cases a definitive identification of a mental illness is very difficult, or even impossible. There’s no test or scan that you can do for depression, so doctors may only have the testimony of others, or evidence of the most unreliable witness possible, the sufferer, on which to base the diagnosis. It also seems, at least to a psych-idiot like me, that very little is known about the workings of the brain compared to every other part of the body. A good example of this is that two out of the three drugs that I’ve been prescribed are predominantly used to treat other ailments (epilepsy and psychosis, respectively), and although there is apparently lots of evidence to prove that they ease bipolar symptoms, it’s not yet been fully established why this is so.

Maybe this is also why it can make mental illness difficult to understand; at times there can be no sign that anything’s wrong, and even when there is it can just seem like an over-the-top, but not completely unwarranted, reaction to an everyday situation.

Do I need a label? It would certainly makes things easier, and I could pretend that I was a misunderstood creative genius, but it seems, at least medically, that it really only makes a difference in the drugs prescribed, and I’m fine with trying anything that works.

So, there you go, “Up & Down Runner” may be a complete fraud; a cheap marketing gimmick. Please forgive me, but “Up & Down, But Not Consistent with a Diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder, But Then Again Maybe It Is, Runner”, would not be quite as catchy, or fit on a t-shirt.

Right, I’m off to buy a Maserati.

NB: I know that the photo at the top does not really relate to the post, it’s just the best photo of me that I have…