My knees push into the padded mat, as equally does my palms, which I place directly under my shoulders. I inhale as I arch my back and my face looks up towards the sky and I gently close my eyes, moving into Cat Pose.
I somehow fell into this tradition where the moment I sign
up for a race I write RUN with a
jiffy marker on my calendar and slowly work my way back from that date to
present, scribbling out my mileage, cross training and rest days each day of
the week. As the days progressed, so did the numbers, which climbed higher and
higher until I hit the 13 miles for race day. I could literally see my legs develop
muscles as I ran longer and my quads got more defined. I knew that I was
getting stronger when the eight miles became the easy runs and five miles
transitioned into fun runs when the distance increased. There was something semi
erotic with peeling my sweaty clothes off after a run and getting a glimpse of
myself in the mirror on the way into the shower, seeing how defined my body was
getting through training and working out. I was proud of my body; it takes
hard work and it takes discipline. I didn’t just wake up like this.
As I exhale, my neck moves towards the floor my arms push into the ground, which pushes my spine up and my pelvise down: Cow Pose.
But, those black scribbled numbers would eat at me if I missed a day of running. If I didn’t make the required mileage for the day it’s all I focused on. When I asked my doctor if I could start exercising again when I first started experiencing heart palpitations and chest pains he immediately said no, and then looked at me curiously and asked in his familiar accent: why was this exercise so important? Mentally, it’s how I kept my shit together. Feeling anxious, I went for a run. Feeling angry, I’d push hard through a five K. I knew the various trail systems in and around our house, from the regularity of not wanting, but Needing to go for a run; running was what kept me calm.
I push my pelvis into
the floor and my toes come slightly off the ground. Splaying my hands out under
my shoulders and pushing into the mat, I inhale long and deep as I my back
arches and my chest rises into an Upward Dog.
There were many times during the winter when we would
snowboard for much of the day and then I would come home and bang out a four
mile run. Or I’d climb the steep hill breathless to catch the view before
going snowboarding for the day. Being outside was my happy place and being
active was a huge part of my identity, but suddenly that was stripped from me.
I was no longer a runner and I could no longer exercise the anxiety away.
Somewhere along the way, I had lost who I had become. I also wasn’t mentally
capable of working until they could figure out what the hell was going on with
me which took another piece of my identity away. Combined, the seemingly theft
of my identity was affecting me detrimentally.
On top of this, I wasn’t nearly as restrictive to what I was
eating. I was consuming everything in order to not feel weak and crappy. The mornings
were the worst, often I felt like I was on the verge of passing out. I was
eating every two hours, much of what was comfort foods: a combination of bread
and pasta. One doctor warned me to keep an eye on my weight especially if I was losing
any, so I made sure that didn’t happen. As a direct result, I’m sorry to admit
that my vanity shone through in the past few months as my toned muscles
were disappeared and for the first time ever my stomach was very much visible. It
took effort to do up my pants and I was incredibly aware of my increased size.
Despite some heavy imposter syndrome at the mine, I’m a
pretty confident woman. As my best friend blatantly explained, not all of us
are secure enough to wear our opinions on our chest. As my many feminist t-shirts
display my ever vocal thoughts. But,
being truly honest, moving up two jean sizes made me question my sense of self.
I hate even typing this, in that my value is so tied to the firmness of my stomach,
but here we are.
Slowly I exhale and come
back down to my mat.
The amount of people who have reached out to me through
Facebook comments, private messages, postcards and Face Time have been
astounding. First of all, I didn’t realize how many people give a crap about
my life adventures through reading this blog, or my well-being in general. It’s
so humbling and it’s been incredibly uplifting. For the past two months I’ve
been off Facebook. For me it’s far too addicting and the negative posts of
politics and COVID are pretty harmful to my thought process. I’ve logged back
on to post the sale of a couch and a table, but shortly after I will deactivate
my Facebook account until we book a global adventure. Honestly, social media does too
much harm than good for me. This means that I won’t be posting my blog on
social media anymore, but I will still continue blogging, and hopefully frequently.
I’ve been really open with my sister about my anxiety as she has struggles of her own. It’s a relief knowing everyone is a bit of a
mess; It’s very helpful to know I’m not in this alone. Recently my niece and I
watched Inside Out, I recommend this Pixar movie to any kid, it’s great explaining
emotions and how they’re all beneficial (even sadness) if regulated properly. My niece and I
share tips and trips with how we deal with our anxiety, as my sister had the knowledge
and smarts to put her kid in counselling as soon as she saw the signs of her anxiety.
I’m so thankful she can work on this when she’s six and not merely begin at thirty-three.
Inhale: My arms push
back into the floor and I transition into a Plank. Exhale: My core shakes as my
arms and toes hold the weight of my body. I rock backwards and forwards on my
toes and the pads of my hands and take three slow, deep rotations of breathing.
After a stress test and a very fearful heart catscan (I don’t
know the technical term) where I learned anxiety trumps blood pressure pills,
as they had issues taking a photo of my racing heart, I was told that my heart
is healthy and not the problem. Shortly after this many of my conditions began dissolving,
or at least I’m managing them. I’ve been given the clear to start exercising
again. Funny enough, rather than going back to running, I found a love for yoga.
I’ve been slowly strengthening my body again and focusing on breathing
which forces my ever racing brain to focus on one thing and slow down. As my
body remembers movement my mind is learning how to calm down. For the first
time ever, I can see some flexibility in my body and my upper body is slowly
remembering movement and finding strength. I do this soon after waking up and
before I go to bed for relaxation.
I have been working with a certified dietitian, Nourish to Flourish,
on how to fuel my body properly. Before all the issues, my relationship with
food and exercise was becoming a problem and notably negative. I’m ready to admit to myself that I was on the fast track to disordered eating, in exercising to make up for
the calories of beer drank and food consumed. It was a relief admitting to Amber that since feeling unwell I was getting obsessive around what I am eating as it's the only thing I feel that I have
control over right now. Seeing a dietary professional has really helped on
developing a better food relationship with myself.
I’ve started meditating, using Dan Harris’s Podcast Ten Percent Happier (also a really good book) and although extremely difficult, it has been helping. His podcast helps normalize anxiety, and his ten minuet or less meditation guides are worth a listen. I’ve been reading many self-help books and am always open to recommendations - please reach out to me on your suggestions with books or any techniques on dealing with anxiety.
Inhale: I push back
intending to shift more weight on my toes and I slowly exhale as my legs dig into the ground and push my
hips back upwards and my arms stretch past my head and into the floor, my head close to my mat: Downward Dog. I take three more rotations of breathing.
I was talking to my Counselor shortly after the symptoms started showing up. When I explained to her my inability to cope with my ever increasing anxiety because I wasn’t allowed to exercise, she asked me if I felt like the world was trying to tell me something. I believe my spirit animal is a fox... I believe in signs. I didn’t realize four-leaf clovers were real until Mike’s sister showed me and Mike handed me one – my niece pointed out the framed clover on my desk and when I admitted this she essentially rolled her eyes while saying of course they exist, as any six year old would. What I'm trying to say is that along with signs, I also believe everything happens for a reason.
So through all of this, I am learning to live in the present and enjoy it. Although we are
still planning on Australia in May, 2022, I’ve been really loving the little
things we’ve been doing, the things I often take for granted. I’ve been pushing myself, slowly. It was a huge deal
to hike Fraser Mountain without my heart exploding. My Nurse-Friend Takarah
kept me company and lovingly tolerated my snail pace as we traded stories of
anxiety and the various loves of our lives (aka: outdoor activity and our yearning
to travel). Mike and I did our first overnight hike where I drank the most
glorious coffee I’ve ever had (I’ve been off coffee since mid May). On another
trip we picked huckleberries and jumped off cliffs some friends we’ve coined “The
Neufies” who we are eager to hike with next weekend with my best friend and her
husband. Slowing, I’m remembering what normal feels like. I’ve also returned to
work, which has been nice on so many levels.
I still struggle daily with anxiety, although the anti-anxiety
medication is helping significantly, the daily stressors aren’t nearly as prominent
as they have been. My physician still doesn’t know why my blood pressure is
high, and I’m still on medication for that, which it still a huge concern of
mine. I still call my sister worried and I still express concerns to Mike about
my mental stability and physical state. I take life day by day, but I’m doing so much better than I
was. I’m a work in progress.
Also, I bought jeans two sixes bigger that fit, now. That was a game changer.
Exhale: Move back into plank pose and with your elbows pushed into your ribs, slowly with control lower your body to the ground. Begin Again.
Kirstin
I am stronger than this emotion.
