It’s a funny thing, this EBV…Well, perhaps “funny” isn’t the best word, but let’s go with that. I prefer to find humor in every situation, even when it’s completely and totally inappropriate. That’s just how I deal.
So, here’s the deal: I’m all “Let’s do challenges and train for races and be more primal!” And I do that, and I’m feeling fantastic. Then, two nights ago, I hear myself listing various symptoms to Hubby, wondering why I can’t shake this vague “flu feeling.” *smackingselfonforehead* Oh…right…
This time, I get to experience two brand spankin’ new symptoms! How lucky am I? Check this out: I am so excessively thirsty that I down over a gallon of water a day…and then I get to sweat it all out! Not through exercise, mind you. Just by sitting, standing, lying, showering. I choose to consider it my body’s helpful way of detoxing. And just in case you’re wondering which stock to buy, I use Dove deodorant.
Here is where I get to make my choice. I could A) wallow and moan and cry or B) deal with it and move on. I chose A for an afternoon but now I am solidly in the Choice B camp.
Now, it just so happens that this flareup coincided with the start of the GrokItOut Challenge (check out the tabs above for more info), which means I already have a restorative nutrition plan in place. More cooking requires more energy, but more energy requires whole foods that require more cooking. It’s a whole catch-22, but I’m working through that.
In addition to the Paleo menu, part of our group challenge is to Live Primally through activity as well. Funny thing…I was totally disregarding that and busting out my half marathon training, strength training, a push up challenge, and a yoga challenge…every day. Huh. How could this flareup have begun?
(Hey, Hubby, I know you’re reading this and smirking. I suggest you wipe it off your face before you come home…)
Seeing as how my race isn’t for another eight months, I think I can put off hardcore training until then and go with the primal movement prescription. Which means the yoga and the pushups can stay and I can still run shorter distances fewer days a week. I can totally handle that. No, for real. Because here is my other Big Lesson Learned from this most recent body betrayal:
Slow The Fuck Down. In the words of the great Ferris Bueller, “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” That, friends, is a true story. I was holding my baby the other day and guess what? He’s not a baby anymore. His two-and-a-half-year-old legs don’t fit on my lap anymore when I rock him to sleep. He’s heavy and fully formed. My other “babies” are running a business/philanthropy (check out Bubba’s Pumpkin Patch blog). So I’m listening now. You’ve got my attention, Life. I am going to Slow The Fuck Down and take long walks outside with my kiddos instead of taking long runs on the treadmill solo. I am going to do yoga and breathe deeply and live in the now as much as my Type A brain will allow. I will rest with the Rooster and watch cartoons while he plays with his guys and uses my legs as a lair for superheroes. When I am fully recharged, I will ease back into distance running and keep cardio and weight training for separate days. Because that’s what I’ve learned I must do.
I’m pretty sure full marathons may be a thing of the past. I dislike saying that with certainty, so I won’t. But I’m not planning anything longer than 13.1 for the time being. That’s another thing I’ve learned: it’s okay to not do stuff. It’s necessary to know when I need to push myself because I’m kind of wussing out and when I must stop my Ego from powering through because I am ill.
That’s sort of new to me, as well: really and truly accepting that it is an illness. There will always be a part of my brain that wants me to suck it up and stop whining. Thing is, during a flare, my body speaks so much louder than that part of my brain. I am simply learning to listen to my body sooner so I can heal faster.