Photo by Vitaly Gariev on Unsplash
A few weeks ago, I decided to start exercising more. I thought swimming would be a good, low impact activity that my body could metabolise.
Instead, I ended up doing less exercise, rather than more. I started randomly having ankle pain. It’s got to the point where the awkward pain has kept me from falling asleep.
These seemingly small issues can start having a large impact. My lack of sleep has meant other issues started emerging. I am now getting pain on my side, and my digestion problems have re-awoken. Now that my feet are somewhat better, it’s these stomach pains that are keeping me awake at night. I haven’t had a proper night sleep in the last week.
The mix of these awkward pains have meant that I’ve cancelled the few social plans I had. I’ve felt further away from my goal of physical activity, rather than closer to it. It’s been frustrating.
Yet I’ve learnt the hard way that there is no point trying to force my way through. My body will only crash even harder. I managed to seem functionable a few months ago. But this was based upon a mix of mentally forcing myself to do basic activities through time-pressured adrenaline and energy drinks. This was not a recipe for long term health and wellbeing.
I do feel a sense of unjustness at how innocuous these issues have arisen. I had a bit of foot pain when travelling to the UK and back. Perhaps I hurt my feet somewhere. But I do not recall any injuries. I wore shoes that I had worn before. I routinely travel to the UK, and there’s not actually a whole lot of walking. My best guess is that I caused some issues in attempting to plant my feet more firmly on the ground as a means of regulating my nervous system.
My stomach issues are also frustrating because I feel like I’m generally eating okay. When I went to see my parents, I could barely eat my mum’s cooking without having bad stomach issues. It’s improved somewhat now, but I have to be careful. It seems pretty farcical that I decided to not have a small can of cola yesterday because the drying nature of it might ruin my digestion and therefore my sleep.
Such is recovery. We often simplify sickness, then a linear path to healing. But in practice, it comes in sporadic and oft confusing waves. It may be frustrating, but there are no shortcuts. Attempting to outsmart recovery only leads to even longer illness.
I’m also conscious that I’m in some ways lucky. I do not have a chronic condition (as far as I’m aware). My energy will recover eventually. There are many who must live with such difficult conditions that my years of difficulty are what they must live their whole life. Such thoughts are very humbling.
My lack of energy feels additionally stark in a societal context. For all intents and purposes, I look young and healthy. Young people are meant to be vibrant, rushing around with energy. Old people, meanwhile, are expected to slowly withdraw into isolation and nonexistence.
This is what we are led to believe, even though we see plenty of examples to the contrary. Younger people are having more mental health issues, and burnout is an ever-growing phenomenon. Meanwhile, many older people are fitter and healthier than ever seen before. I remember meeting a group of women in Peru who were in their 70s and doing an intensive hiking schedule that was well beyond my capabilities.
I am cautious about preaching clichés around taking care of our bodies. I feel there are enough voices with more in-depth knowledge on such things. Yet if I had one plea, it would be to break out of our societal expectations around age and energy. Young people are allowed to rest. Old people are allowed to be energetic.
It may sound like a small shift, but I think it is what traps many people into unhealthy patterns. Younger folk feel they must squeeze the most out of their youth before it ‘runs out’. Older folk learn to give up their health because their ‘best days’ are supposedly already passed.
Our best plan is to work with our bodies, rather than against them. We can do this at any age.