Well, that was a nice little sojourn into misery.

I’m busy climbing up the other side now and I’m heading for the light (I feel like I’m in an episode of Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt)

Now here’s a thought:

What is the first thing a good coach tells a runner? A rider?

Run your own race. Ride your own ride.

A wise friend of mine posted a blog post about this. Patti’s an endurance rider. She’s one of  those crazy people that rides for 100 miles and calls it fun. Not only does she do that, so does her husband and they’ve managed to stay married throughout it!

Patti is also a good, good friend, along with her husband Rich. Both times I’ve travelled over to the states I’ve stayed with them in beautiful snowy Buffalo. I love the snow. I’m always so happy to see it, and Patti and Rich give me LAKE EFFECT SNOW, bless them! They also take me riding through the snowy hills of rural upstate New York, on that lovely big grey no less - until hypothermia sets in, I can no longer feel my extremities and frost bite might be on the way. 

Anyway, I digress. Patti’s point is - quelle surprise - that everyone is different, the way we come into things, our benchmark data,  the tools we bring with us, what our goals are. We need to ride our own ride.

And that made me think today: why am I so obsessed with how other people are doing in their Hepatitis C treatment?

We like to think we’ll hit benchmarks at certain points. It’s expected. Most people do. Undetected by 4 weeks was a goal I’d set myself. The only trouble with setting a goal like that was that I had absolutely no control over whether it could be achieved or not. Why set a goal where the achievement of that goal was in the lap of the ribavirin gods, or the AbbVIe gods?

Because I’m an idiot, that’s why.

I came into this hep c treatment with a different set of benchmarks to others. My health was different. I was healthier in some ways, not healthier in others. I had cirrhosis. I had some blood test results already way outside the normal range. I’m 56. In some ways I’m an outlier. Heck in some ways we are all outliers.

All these things mean my treatment journey is different from someone else’s journey. I might have some things resolve quicker. Some slower. But as long as things are moving in a positive direction, let’s keep this show on the road.   

Don’t misunderstand me, I know there are some absolutes. But we aren’t there yet. When my last lot of blood tests were done I was 4 weeks into a 24 week program. Perhaps I lost a little bit of perspective (you THINK?).

So I am going to try to ride my own ride and run my own race. My goals have to be things I can work towards myself. Undetected at 4 weeks would have been nice, sure. But that’s not a goal I should set. It’s a by-product of my goals: to take my meds, live well, look after myself and reduce the stress in my life.

Those are goals I can achieve. That’s what I can do. I can only help the drugs to do their thing. I can’t make them.