Earlier in the week I attended an event called ‘Faith in Recovery’. The morning was a step towards better spiritual care for people with mental ill health by health services working in partnership with faith communities.
Hope can be particularly elusive, and not just to people who are unwell. It would appear that institutions can suffer from a lack of hope too.
The symptoms are similar:
Difficulty seeing beyond the present
Being unable to see anything other than a negative future
Thinking you’ll never be able to do the things you used to do again
When people and organisations are stuck in this cycle of negative thinking it is vital for them to have communities to support them. These communities need to be hopeful. People need sympathy and understanding but re-enforcing negative thoughts really isn’t helpful.
Negativity is contagious. It’s a state of mind that it’s easy to get stuck in.
Part of the problem is our understanding of ‘recovery’. We think that ‘recovery’ means returning to how we were before. It doesn’t. It never has. Very few illnesses, breaks or conditions pass with a return to a previous state.
Healing changes us.
Often a broken bone heals stronger than in was before the break. Sometimes a vulnerability remains. Neither of those two states are how we were before. An infection often leaves antibodies behind which will fight against future attack but it may leave a vulnerability.
The same is true of mental illness and of organisation decline.
We can’t, and shouldn’t, expect to return to how we were before. Being ill changes us. We learn to cope with adversity, we learn how it feels to be down, we learn to recognise the signs of approaching illness, we learn to accept help when we need it and we learn that things can change. We are not the same as before because we have experienced something different.
If the Easter story tells us anything it is that Jesus was changed by ressurection, and that we are too. Hope changes everything.
But if you don’t believe you will get better than it is unlikely that you will. That is the absence of hope.
Sometimes people become defined by their illness, just like people are defined by their job or their relationships or by something the did long ago. These can be difficult things to change. Recovery requires us to take steps to get well. Those can include medication, exercise, healthy eating, rest and talking. Few of us recover without help.
I wonder if the same is true of organisational recovery? I wonder if we are able to recognise the things that trigger our problems? I wonder if we know what a healthy diet and exercise look like? I wonder if we can learn to live with our vulnerabilities and make the most of our strengths? I wonder if we want to get better?
Most of all I wonder if churches have forgotten to be hopeful communities.
It was good to hear a story of recovery on Tuesday, a recovery which was in no small assisted by faith and a hopeful community.
The church can and should play a huge part in supporting people with mental health problems.
The church can and should be a hopeful community.
Hope is the key to our recovery… and to to the recovery of many people living with mental illness.
I didn’t see much of the London Marathon yesterday as I was at church but I did listen to some of the coverage on the radio as I was driving there.
I was struck, yet again, but the amazing capacity people have for hope, for good and for generosity.
People who don’t run wake up one day and decide that for some reason running 26.2 miles seems like the kind of thing they want to try. Some are motivated by loss, others by a second chance or the need to make a difference, raising millions for charities. Some do it just to prove to themselves that they can.
Watching 40,000 people do something hard is inspiring. We have become a little used to the distance. We are little less impressed because we all know someone who has done run a marathon.
What’s more, we know the people who run are not special, at least not in a physical way.
The only difference between them and the 99.9% of people who will never run a marathon is that they have chosen to do it.
As you watch the whole range of humanity from superfit Kenyans completing the course in a staggering 2:04 to the 101 year old completing yet another marathon with every kind of person in between it’s hard not to think ‘I could do that!’.
I heard Helen Skelton, tv presenter and someone who has taken on some incredible challenges, remind us that challenge is relative. For some running 26.2 miles isn’t hard. For some walking 0.2 miles is a dream. Running isn’t for everyone, but there is something out there for you.
There is a woman walking the marathon course this week who is paralysed from the chest down. Yes, I did just say a woman who is paralysed from the chest down is WALKING. She is using her brand new exoskeleton to help her get round the course.
There were amputees, transplant donors and recipients, people with all kinds of things that others call limitations or disabilities who all joined that 0.1% club of people who said ‘I can do that!’.
There were people who have lost someone special, who have recovered from illness or accident and people who just wanted to see if they were up to it.
They are all proof that we should never let someone tell us that something is impossible, that you are being silly or that you couldn’t do that.
They did meet their challenge… and you can meet yours.
I love this for all sorts of reasons. I love Caine’s creativity, I love his perseverance when his friends laughed at him, I love his dad’s support and encouragement, I love Nirvan’s enthusiasm and willingness to go out on a limb for Caine’s idea and I love that people turned up to play and have fun.
Yesterday I ran further than I’ve ever run before. 22km (13.6 miles) in 2:14:35 and it hurt!
The thing is that I’m not feeling too bad today. My legs are a bit stiff but they should be after that kind of distance. Nothing hurts more than it should and the only real side effect was that I had to go to bed for an hour after the run.
I’m starting to realise that marathon running is mostly mental, probably in both senses of that word.
Running 26.2 miles isn’t a sensible thing to do. It hurts. A lot. It’s further than you’re meant to run. Your body starts using itself as fuel towards the end.
To do that to yourself requires a strong mental attitude.
My friend Anthony ran his first marathon at Lochaber the weekend. His account of his run really shows how strong in mind you need to be. I love his section about ‘The Wall’. Cramp at 19 miles is absolutely the wall! Finishing the next 7 miles with cramp is pure mind over matter.
Also, well done to Ross who completed the Great Welsh Marathon this weekend.
Of course training helps. I’ve run half a marathon, which in reality is about a quarter of the race… mentally. They say that anyone can run 20 miles, it’s the last 6 that count.
There’s a reason that only 0.1% of the population train for and complete a marathon. I’m starting to find out that it’s because it’s hard. Really hard.
Today dawned cold, clear and crisp, all the things you want for a good parkrun. Alright, perhaps not quite as cold with a little less breeze, but this is Scotland in April.
157 runners assembled to run Strathclyde parkrun #103 and celebrate the parkrun’s 2nd birthday.
I’ve not run quick since last year. My 42:52 round the Olympic Park Run’s 5 miles was a step in the right direction so I decided that I’d give the legs a stretch today and see what happened.
I jogged down the Strathclyde Park and felt warm enough to ditch the long sleeved top and run in a t-shirt. As we waited for the start I was starting to regret that as a cold wind whipped across the loch.
Colette Martin was first off in her wheelchair to the strains of bagpipes then we were off.
I set off hoping for a decent 25 minutes but got swept along for the first half kilometer and found myself settling in at a comfortable 4:51 min/km. The second kilometer tends to sort the field out a wee bit. Those who blast off to quickly come back and those who start a little further back in the pack come through. By the top of the loch you’re running in little groups which don’t often change too much for the rest of the race.
I slowed a bit on my second kilometer today (4:56 min/km) and ran 3 and 4 at 4:53 min/km and 4:54 min/km. As I ran down the last kilometer there was a few runners within 10 meters or so.
The big decision for me is always when to go for it. 100m to go seems close enough to the finish not to explode so I picked up the pace a bit and snuck past Paul Smith just at the line (sorry).
So, 24:23 and 53rd place. Not too shabby.
Today’s winner was Stephen Wylie in 16:11, Colette came in at 17:29 in her wheelchair and the first woman runner home was Joanne Clark in 20:01. I counted 29 PBs today.
parkrun is supported by Sweatshop and as a wee birthday treat everyone got a £5 voucher as well as cakes and gels. Thanks so much to everyone who baked treats.
A great morning to celebrate a brilliant weekly event.
Remember, parkrun is a free, timed 5k run every Saturday at 9.30am at Strathclyde Park and loads of other venues around the UK and abroad.
31 March 2012 – A once in a lifetime day – The National Lottery Olympic Park Run
Last year I entered the draw for the National Lottery Olympic Park Run. They would pick 5,000 runners from all 40,000 entrants to be the first people to run in the Olympic Stadium. I won a place. I couldn’t believe it.
This is the story of an incredible day making history…
0730 Time to get up. Yesterday was a long drive from Hamilton to our friends Linda & Denis’ house in Brackley. 6 hours driving is not the best preparation for a run but I was feeling ok. My back was a bit tight but nothing unusual considering the trouble I’ve had with it recently.
Great pre-run breakfast of bagels, scrambled egg and smoked salmon (courtesy of chef Linda). One last check of the bag, put on the red race t-shirt and make sure Avril and David have their spectator bands.
0910 Off to London
Parked at Greenford Tube Station a took the central line direct to Stratford.
1230 The entry to the Olympic Park was through the fantastic Westfield shopping centre, the massive new mall right next door.
The advice was to arrive early, allowing a couple of hours to clear the airport style security, and as we approached the Olympic Park it looked like would need all of that time. The queues moved quickly though, and despite Avril being directed to a different scanner we were soon reunited and heading into the Olympic Park.
The Olympic Park was dressed head to toe in Olympic Park Run banners and National Lottery logos. It looked amazing.
The first buildings in view as you enter the Olympic Park are the Olympic Stadium straight ahead and the Aquatic Centre to the left. As stadiums go the Olympic Stadium is pretty cool. It isn’t a tall or imposing building from the Westfield side but it is distinctive and I like it.
You enter the stadium at the concourse level above the lower tier of seating which explains why the stadium doesn’t look very tall. It’s unlike any stadium I’ve every been in. There are no turnstyles and the toilets are built into the outside of the stadium. It is surrounded by small buildings which look like they will be concession stands for the Olympics which makes lots of sense in terms of space.
The seats have plenty of space but aren’t very steeply sloped so you feel a little far away from the track and I’m not sure how it would work as a football stadium after the games. The pitch might seem a bit remote, but that’s for another day.
Before we go any further I should address the most important matter of the day… it was FREEZING.
The wind was whipping round the stadium and the spectators were so cold, a real shock to the system after the great weather of the previous week.
We watched Killer Queen who performed on a small stage at the opposite end of the stadium. Still, it’s the closest I’ll ever get to a Queen stadium gig, clapping along to Radio Gag and We Are the Champions. Then it was time for me to leave Avril and David and head out to the start…
13.30 As I began warming up the sun came out a little and I made the decision to ditch the thermal top and be a big boy and run in just my t-shirt (so glad I did). Bryan Burnett was hosting the start zone, and doing his usual great job of it. It makes such a difference to have someone hosting the start that really understands how a race feels from a runner’s point of view. The big tunes (Moves like Jagger, Barbra Streisand, Firework (someone got Now That's What I Call Running!for Christmas) pumped out to get us pumped up and our warm up was assisted by Mr Motivator off of the 80′s.
Then it was race time.
1400 The elite wave is set off by Princess Beatrice and the chief exec of the National Lottery.
1412 The white (royal – Princess Beatrice was running in it) wave is set off by Olympians Roger Black and Steve Backley.
The course wound through the Olympic Park passing the brilliant velodrome, basketball arena, handball courts, copper box, and aquatic centre. Much of the park is still a building site but you can see that in a very short space of time it will be transformed into a place with lots of green open space.
I loved the velodrome. It’s by far the best of the buildings. I looks much more permanent than some of the others and is beautifully designed.
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The BBC’s Nick Hope gives a great runner’s eye view of the run and I’ve added some runner’s youtube videos at the end which give a great sense of running around the tunnel under the stadium and emerging onto the track.
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There were some pretty steep inclines along the way with a long drag at about 3.5 miles. It was worth the climb though as the top of the hill gave a brilliant view of the stadium, our destination.
The highlight of this run was always going to be the finish. This was the first time that members of the public would be given the chance to be first across the Olympic finish line.
As we approached the Olympic Stadium I started to get really emotional. I think the realisation that I was about to do something that only a very few people would ever get the chance to do was suddenly very real.
We entered the tunnel and ran 300m around the tunnel under the stands. (My Garmin went in the huff at this point so it looks like I flew over the stadium) After a few meters of the tunnel I could hear music… It was theTheme From 'Chariots of Fire'. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but I certainly felt inspired. The tunnel seemed to go on for ever but all of a sudden there was a bright light at the end of it…
…and I emerged onto the track of the Olympic Stadium.
It was amazing.
This was a test event. There were only 12,000 spectators but even with that amount of people the atmosphere was brilliant. I decided that the time didn’t matter. It was great that we could take a couple of spectators to witness this unique event. Running is often quite a solitary sport but for most people it’s impossible without someone to support your efforts. I’m in the middle of training for my first marathon. I was injured for most of January and without Avril’s support I’d have given up then. It was really special to have her there to watch.
Before the race both David and I had predicted I’d run it in 42 minutes and I was on target for that but I was never going to get this chance again so I moved to the outside of the track, hoping to see Avril and David on the way round. Of course I didn’t have my glasses on so I was really hoping they would see me because I couldn’t see very far! David saw me but just as I approached the woman sitting in front of Avril stood up and started waving to someone behind her so Avril didn’t see me until I was round the bend. (I’m impressed she didn’t belt the woman in front! I would have after sitting in the cold for two hours for that one moment!)
Without really realising it I found myself running down the home straight. It was almost over… and a sub 42 minute time was still on. I turned up the pace, well you have to go for it across the line, and headed for home.
I finished the 5 miles in 41:51. (that’s me under the right hand corner of the pink wave timer – the time on the White Wave was for the start of the wave and I was at the back!)
What an amazing day. I still can’t quite believe that I spent Saturday afternoon running round the Olympic Stadium. And just in case you are wondering… I beat Princess Beatrice, just.
The opinions expressed in this website are those of the author, Stewart Cutler. They do not necessarily represent the views of his employer, the United Reformed Church, or any of the agencies he works with.
Earlier in the week I attended an event called ‘Faith in Recovery’. The morning was a step towards better spiritual care for people with mental ill health by health services working in partnership with faith communities.
for Christmas
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