Oops, I think I
just went 40 days without writing. My initial thought is to come down on
myself, beat myself up a little, and then vow to write everyday from here
forward. BUT, maybe that’s not the answer. I recently gave a presentation for
one of my classes and it was horrible. Or at least I thought it was horrible. I
was almost in tears afterward because I was so frustrated with myself. The most
frustrating part was preparing it. I’m learning that there are some cognitive
side effects that come along with the chronic fatigue syndrome (foggy thinking,
poor memory, difficulty concentrating) and it definitely made school more
challenging this past quarter. When I described to my mom the process I had to
go through to prepare that damn presentation, she said, “It’s like your
computer’s broken.” Yes, that’s exactly what it was like. Anyway, after much
debate, I decided to email my professor (not for sympathy or to ask for another
chance-God knows I had no interest in spending another minute on that project)
but to let her know what was going on. I wanted to let her know that I didn’t
blow off the project, that I did put time into it, and that I was frustrated.
Her response was profound. She assured me that not only was my work good
enough, but that it was good work. She acknowledged that I was frustrated, but
she commended me for doing good work in spite of what I was going through. And
she encouraged me to hold myself to a different standard right now. Oh, and
after I emailed her, I realized that the grades had been posted (prior to me
contacting her): I earned an A. This got me thinking about the standards that I
hold myself to. I’ve always been hard on myself: it’s almost instinctive. Just
because it was “A” work, doesn’t mean I viewed it as being good work. I didn’t
write in this blog for 40 days: I should beat myself up for that. I’ve barely done any planks in the month of
November: crap, I’m slacking. And then I think, wait, look at all I’m doing in
spite of my circumstances. This school quarter was not easy: I had three
different addresses during the 10 week quarter (that’s a lot of freakin
moving), my brain isn’t working like it used to, my energy level is not where
it used to be, and I simply don’t feel well a good portion of the time, and
there’s no clear cut answer on how to fix it.
So, maybe it’s
OK to give myself a break (not something that’s easy for me to do, but I’ll
try). Instead of beating myself up for
what I haven’t done, I will focus on what I have done and what’s going well. I
completed the 31 day plank challenge in October! I didn’t miss a single day. I
walked the Denver Rock and Roll Half Marathon. This was a big one. This was my
first race since June that I didn’t have to scratch. I had signed up to run the
full marathon, prior to getting sick. By the time October rolled around, I knew
it was questionable whether I should even walk the half. But I had been feeling
a little better so I decided to do it. It was great. It was also humbling. Not
that I’m a fast runner, but people who saw me (and didn’t know that I have been
sick) gave me a hard time for walking. It gave me a whole new perspective; you
see a whole different crowd when you’re walking at the back of the pack. It was
refreshing: people in costumes, people of all shapes and sizes, people with
inspirational stories to tell. People don’t usually chat with you when you’re
running, gasping for air, and trying to set a new PR. But when you’re walking
in the back of the pack, you’re probably there for a different reason. I met a
guy who runs the race every year with his family and friends in honor of his
brother that passed away. They decided that was a good way to direct their
grief and energy toward something positive, and it gave them a chance to get
together every year. What a great reason to race. So it was a long day and a
slow walk, but I was out there and I finished.
There was
definitely a week in October where something shifted. I had moments of, “I’m
starting to feel like myself again.” This was awesome. But I also have to
remember not to push too hard because I still have moments of, “I feel like
total crap.” So it’s this fine line of pushing myself so I can start improving
my fitness again, and not pushing too hard. I started doing the RMTC group
swims again in October. And I’ve done a few RMTC group bike rides. Training
with a group is hard right now because it’s hard not to push too hard when I’m
with other people. I’m trying to take it easy, but I’m not always very good at
this. The good news and the bad news is that I pay for it when that happens.
It’s good because it keeps me in check, it’s bad because I don’t recover well
and am usually really tired or sick for one or more days after. It comes back
to those standards. I’m not going to be at the same level I was back in May and
I can’t compare myself to other people. And, I keep reminding myself that it’s
November. There is no rush (although I still feel the pressure of that ironman
date) and this is not the time of year to be pushing really hard. After
speaking with my doctor a couple of weeks ago, he said it could be up to six
months before I’m able to really push hard again and that I need to be careful
because pushing too hard right now is like taking one step forward and two
steps back. There’s no need to dig this hole any deeper.
So I guess I
should write something about press-handstands J It seems this blog is becoming about
more than a press handstand. Maybe that’s the point. As my Dad would always
say, “There’s more to life than gymnastics.” So if the lessons I learn in
gymnastics and in triathlon can help me in life, then maybe that’s the point,
maybe that’s what my Dad has been getting at all along. But physically, my
quest to do a press handstand is really a quest to regain my strength. I really
want to focus in on using my body weight as resistance and becoming gymnastics
strong again. Well, my newest exercise is the pull-up! I am staying at a
friend’s house for a couple of months (that’s a whole other story, and a
situation for which I’m incredibly grateful). Anyway, he has a pull-up bar in
his house. So every time (OK, not every time) I walk under the pull-up bar, I
do at least one pull-up. Now, I should mention that, sadly, I can no longer do
a pull-up L But I can modify it and do some sort of movement that
slightly resembles a pull-up, and my hope is that I’ll regain this strength.
It’s amazing to think of how strong I was in my gymnastics days, and how
humbling it is to lose that strength. The other thing I want to do more of are
leg lifts. I think pull-ups and leg lifts are two exercises that work a ton of
different muscles. Guess what was sore after my first pull-up attempt… my abs!
What!? I didn’t see that coming. My only
problem with the pull-up bar is that I’m a little bit afraid that it’s going to
break away from the doorway and I’ll go crashing to the ground. We had a
pull-up bar growing up and this definitely happened to my brother. Now, was he
swinging on it and using it improperly? Well, probably. But still, that’d be a
shitty way to get injured.
So, long story
short, I’m making progress and trying to remember to hold myself to different
standards right now.
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