What's it all about?

In 2002 I shaved my head for charity. I was in Australia on a working holiday at the time, and I had recently split from my ex-girlfriend, Jo A, who I went travelling with in the 1st place. I was feeling pretty low at that time, and I felt like I needed to do something to re-establish some semblance of self-esteem, so i wanted to do something 'good' to remind myself that I was a good person. I was also curious to see what my head would look like with no hair.

Although I am glad I did it, shaving my head did not have the desired effect on my confidence and self-esteem, in fact it had the opposite effect. I hated myself with no hair (I have an ugly head, all bumps and ridges) so I did myself no favours by doing it, even though I raised some good money for leukemia research.

If this was a conscious decision, I wonder if my motives for running the marathon can be paralleled with my reasons for the head shave in 2002?

My ex-girlfriend Jo A was the love of my life, my inspiration, I would never have gone travelling if it wasn't for her. But we split soon after we arrived in Oz and I was devastated, alone, and on the other side of the world. I had always thought back to this moment as the low point in my life, but for some months now I have started to feel similar or worse, sometimes I feel like I have no meaning, direction or structure to my life.

Of course I have recently been through another break up, with my ex, (also called Jo) and this time it feels much harder because it was my decision to leave. Jo C was my lover and companion of 5 years, we had been through huge changes on our lives together, supporting each other throughout. We went on adventures. Guilt plays a big part. Did I make the right decision? I do wish now that I had taken more time. I feel like the things that define me as a person are being stripped away one by one. I was a Greenpeace activist, but I have not been able to get that going in London, I had a VW camper, which has now been sold, I was a home owner and I made life choices that were important to the way I want to live, like buying local food, supporting local businesses, networking with other local activists. Most importantly I was Jo's boyfriend, I was half-her/half-me and now that whole sense of identity has been lost.

This week I have been able to unpack my stuff for the 1st time since November, when I moved in with my brother. In one sense this is great because my life now has some structure and order, at least I know where my stuff is, but it also has a sense of finality to it, drawing a line under the old life and starting a new one.

If its been hard for me its been hell for, Jo, stuck in our house in Huddersfield and trying to come to terms with it all. I am sorry Jo. We have spoken a few times but I don't think it has helped make any sense of it all. It must be easy for Jo to think I have been living it up in London but its not been like that.

But Jo, if you ever doubted that I loved, or the way I felt about you,
Remember me singing to you while we sat smoking in the gutter in Notting Hill,
Remember me brushing your teeth for you when you couldn't do it for yourself
Remember me giving you my shoes when yours were hurting your feet
Remember me designing a menu for you and cooking a meal on your birthday
Remember Friday nights in the Dusty Miller
Remember cleaning the carpets drunk at midnight
Remember the holidays, the camping, the vans, Wimbledon, Ireland, Barcelona,
Remember the Faithless gig where I got my willy out to cheer you up.

You wont know this but whenever I made a wish, blowing out candles or snapping the wishbone, it was always the same wish: For Jo to be happy.

So now I wonder if running 26.2 miles can solve all of that? How can it? It might help to repair some of my self esteem but it can't mend my heart. And its going to take a lot of heart to finish it. This marathon is all about me, its my challenge and no-one else's, and I can't wait to take it on.

Then what will I do?