I was all ready to run my second 5K today. I've been running consistently, I've been building stamina, I've been eating to fuel my body the best I can.


I've written plenty about my heart condition. I've written about how I couldn't walk any distance, significant or not, this time last year. I couldn't drive this time last year.

Now, I'm about to toot my own horn, but put some sunglasses on and deal with it. I was given a med in a different class to try last winter. It changed my life. I no longer have episodes several times a week or even month. I have episodes every few months. That has allowed me to go back to driving, to start taking walks that were at first .25 miles, then .5 miles, and now I regularly walk at least five miles a day. I started running, doing between 1.25 and 2 miles each run, a few days a week. I play kickball again. I do yoga. I do healthy, normal things, and am really now in pretty good shape. Could be better, but I'm working on it.

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I fucked up this week. I took a shower too soon after a run, and I passed out in the shower. I can tell before it happens, so I got down, and everything was fine. When I have an episode, I should go to bed. I should lie down, drink liters of water, put my feet up, and have some salt. But REST. Instead, I was a dipshit and went to dinner in 85 degree heat, where I was miserable the whole time. Then I worked two incredibly long work days, but I did NOT push myself by running, which was a good choice.

I thought I could run the 5K today. Long story short, I couldn't. I didn't know this until a mile in when my friend asked if we could start walking, and after walking a bit, I recognized the feeling in my head that precedes an episode and headed to the side. I lost consciousness for a brief second, a cop who was there called the medics, and the medics tried to take me to the hospital, which I refused. They gave me kind of a hard time at first, but I held firm.

I'm fine. I know I'm fine. I'm mortified, frustrated, angry, and worst of all, I'm being abusive to myself in my head for being a failure. I can go back and reread the first part of this all I want, but I can't get past "failure." Sure, I ran a third of a 5K, but ONLY a third. Yeah, I couldn't walk this time last year, but am I in the past? Nope! I wrecked this for my friends who were running with me. I wasted the medics' time. Etc etc. I know this is going to be a hard week, and I think that's what this is stemming from. PollyDude already told me "no kickball" tomorrow, to which I say "I WILL DO WHAT I WANT," but I know he said that because he knows I'll push myself to prove I can do it, and I'll end up in the hospital.

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I think I need help finding a positive way to frame this. I need to stop being an asshole to myself, so if you have any suggestions there, I'd appreciate them!