Tag: Energy

Categories
Biohacking

Day 302 and Lights Out

I’ve been a proponent of napping and mid day resting throughout the course of my recovery from chronic illness. Sometimes the only thing that stops inflammation is stopping your entire system. Rest and recovery is part of peak performance. But I was not expecting the sheer force of my desire for sleep to overcome me today. I was absolutely lights out.

I had a busy week with two major deadlines for portfolio companies along with a project for a friend who is a fellow investor. I’ve also been slowly restarting weight lifting again as I miss it as a hobby. Mix in a little frantic appointment frenzy and I’ve been busier than I’ve been since the before times. And by before times I mean before I crashed and burned with my ankylosing spondylitis not before times like before the pandemic.

Around 11am I went out for a hike to stretch my legs after my morning meetings. I only made it about halfway through when I realized I was tired. I came home and practically inhaled my lunch. I had planned to run errands and take calls but I could barely keep my eyes open. I got into bed at 12:45pm and I didn’t wake up again till around 4pm.

I’ve had this idea that wellness means I’ll never be tired again. I find myself incredibly indignant when I realize that healthy people get tired too. My fantasy that I’ll be able to work long hours and not pay any price for it remains a fantasy. Which makes me wonder if the rest of the world is exhausted all the time and I’m just unrealistic. Perhaps the norm is being on the brink of lights out all the time.

Categories
Biohacking

Day 297 and Day of Rest

October has been a whirlwind for me. Or maybe it just feels busy getting back to a normal pace of life. I had a shitty end of summer as part of an effort to decide if and then when to take me off my immunosuppressive medications to get me vaccinated so I could develop antibodies. Maybe anything would feel busy after that.

I lost about six or seven weeks to the whole vaccine situation. Thankfully nobody cared since it was August. But I cared. I didn’t do anything for weeks from all the side effects and management of the process. I only bring this up (and I should write a full post about getting vaccinated as I wrote one about the decision and its risk management) because it’s been a while I needed to actively rest.

I had nearly two months where I didn’t couldn’t pursue any strain like weightlifting or even hiking because I was under enough strain from my own body. And I know this because I used a Whoop to track recovery and strain. Biohacking is a bit of a hobby. I had low strain scores and virtually no activity. I spent all my time in what Whoop calls recovery. But not this week. This week I had strain. And then I learned what a poor recovery from too much strain looks like.

A Whoop recovery score of 32% based on a terrible HRV of 13. Plus I’ve got tachycardia.

This week in addition to a significant workload (ask me about my rolling fund if you are into that sort of thing) I decided to pick back up my powerlifting hobby. I changed up my diet to eat enough protein and calculated out new one rep maximums for a basic starting strength routine.

It felt awesome. Squats are the best. And my overhead presses were better than I imagined. I had this moment of hope that maybe I was well enough to train again after several years of health trouble. I felt empowered. I was working through the delayed onset muscle soreness with a Theragum (something I normally cannot tolerate with my past inflammation levels). I was doing range of motion restoration work. I thought I had it all under control. And then on Friday I saw my resting heart rate variably or HRV start to drop.

I thought oh shit I must be getting sick. Normally a dip in HRV is a hint that my inflammation in my spine will kick back up and all the exciting secondary health stuff like fatigue (from pain) and migraines (from the shitty circulation from the inflammation) will go in circles.

But it turns out that I’m not getting sick. My symptoms didn’t flare. Instead I was tired.

Honestly I’m a little pissed. Normally I only take rest days when I feel sick. I only feel tired when I am sick. This being tired and having my heart be strained because I was overworked physically is bullshit. Normally if I am tired it is because I am fatigued. I mean that feeling you have when you are sick because your system is going haywire. It’s not the same thing as tired. Being tired isn’t debating. Being tired is actually great. I just need to take it easy today because I did too much. Not because I’m sick. Thank god it is Sunday so that day of rest is well timed.

Categories
Emotional Work Politics

Day 294 and Allowing Help

I’m extremely uncomfortable having help with my home life. I’d say this is the surest sign that I wasn’t raised in the upper class, but I did have a nanny when the first tech boom hit so I can’t claim it’s a new experience. It’s not as if I’m adapting to having the money to hire help for things like cleaning, cooking or household help. Twelve year old Julie had a lot of privilege.

In fact, I think it’s a great use of resources to have someone who is adept at these tasks do them instead of me. Everyone has different skills and abilities and mine are not logistics. People should absolutely trade their time in the ways that they prefer. Capitalism gave us labor specialization and I love the benefits. You wouldn’t want me running operations for anything.

No, the thing that troubles me about hiring out for help in the home is that I’m uncomfortable around other human beings for long hours. I know this sounds like some sensitive white lady shit. You can peg me for that. But it’s more than just being a soft bitch. I’m genuinely nervous around people in a way that I don’t think I’d normal.

Too much time socializing stresses me out. If I have to smile, make small talk, and be conscious of my interactions I find it draining. You’ll see it in my biometrics too. On a day where I go to a doctor or have an extended period where I am one-on-one with another person my resting heart rate goes up and my HRV goes down. My Whoop records a higher strain score. I want to blame this on the rational concern for physical health as I have an autoimmune condition that puts me at higher risk. But I think I’m just less capable with people than others.

This has made me reconsider the calculus of whether it’s always logical to outsource tasks to make time for work whose time value is dramatically better. That logic makes it clear that all activities can arbitraged for more value. But what if some things you suck at make you happy? What if some things you are bad at are less stressful than things you are good at. Some people move to cook but have no talent. Some people are amazing at jobs they hate. If I really find that people around people is using up valuable energy maybe I should do it myself.

I think it’s possible we might have so thoroughly skewed our human values to economic gain we aren’t even sure where to spend time for joy. Which I realize is a really ponderous way to look at paying someone to clean the kitchen. But aren’t we all reconsidering what valuable in our lives?

Categories
Biohacking Emotional Work

290 and Self Care

I’ve feel like I should have an entire category on the blog dedicated to “maintenance” as I’ve got loads of posts on my struggles to balance the activities of staying alive with well, the rest of my life.

All of the activities that go into keeping a human alive and functional are so damn time consuming. How does anyone ever get anything done when so much of life is dedicated to keeping our meat sacks from spiraling out? I’m pretty sure these are the things that actually make up life and I’m supposed to treasure this time in my body. But until I become as enlightened as the Buddha, I feel like this whole embodiment thing is just getting in the way of what I should be doing. My therapist likes to call this “human doing” instead of “human being” and I don’t love the joke.

I had a terrific day of doing things this Sunday. I woke up at 7am and didn’t finish all of the various routines and self care activities till 1pm. I went for an hour long walk (which is pleasurable since sunshine and mountain air but also low impact cardiovascular activity) I lifted weights (alright fine, I love squats). I meditated (mindfulness doesn’t count when you quantify it). I showered, shaved & washed my hair. I did the grocery shopping and meal planning for the week. I did three loads of laundry. I made lunch. I cleaned up. I juggled supplements (I’ve got a spreadsheet to track them all with 8am, 10am & 11am slots) which are completely separate from my medications (I have 7am and noon spots for those). And only then at 1pm did I finally get a chance to settle into work. There was so much work just to get to work.

And while I know all of those things that keep me balanced and healthy are the stuff of life, I also resent their necessity. I have elaborate fantasies about what other people get done with their time. Other people don’t need to exercise, meditate, take vitamins, or watch their nutrition right? Well alright I said it was a fantasy. If you also spent your Sunday doing chores and self care it would make me feel better to know that.

Categories
Preparedness

Day 279 and Takeout

I’m not entirely sure when or even how it happened, but I’ve been eating nothing but takeout. I think it’s some “emotional exhalation” around food. When the pandemic first hit I was in Manhattan. As wasn’t yet clear how Covid spread, we locked down in our apartment and cooked every single meal for three straight months. Probably a record in my life for going without ready made meals. But boy did I miss takeout by the end of it.

I’m sure both facts say something about the privilege I have. I can afford to have someone prepare all of my food in restaurants. And when disaster struck I had the time and ability to stay home and cook. Most folks chose their food based on budgets, literal and time.

As I’ve been concerned about the looming supply chain crunch I now think it might be time to flex the cooking at home muscles again. Letting fresh food linger in the fridge without a plan is wasteful. Whether or not I can afford the waste isn’t the point. It’s offensive to the energy and work of the many people who put their livelihood into feeding others.

I feel this especially acutely as my milk and produce come directly from local farmers. I feel like I’m letting down Daphne if our milk isn’t turned into yogurt or ricotta (or at very least put into my morning coffee). Although I will say I have no good plans for the sheer volume of peppers and chilis my farm share produced. In Colorado it is the chili that’s the crop that goes overboard in your CSA box not zucchini or some other squash. I genuinely have no clue what to do with some of more exotic peppers so send me recipes!

Categories
Emotional Work

Day 278 and Overshooting

I have been feeling terrific. That means I’ve been able to do a lot more. But it’s also one of my tendencies to overshoot my capacity. Workaholism, like any addiction, is something I’ll have for the rest of my life. Being in recovery for it means recognizing I could relapse.

I feel a bit of that overextended twitchy feeling at the moment. That jittery adrenaline fueled vibe that proceeds a crash isn’t something I’ve allowed myself to feel for several years as frankly I was worried I’d go on a bender. A bender for me is perceived as societally approved. Look at that work ethic!

So this is me recognizing that I feel like I could go over the edge and I’m not going to do it. The temptation I had to find something to prolong the adrenaline of my winning work streak is heavy. I have a number of topics I’d like to write about today. I’ve got to do lists with tempting targets. But I’m not going to overshoot. I’ve written my paragraphs. I’ll tag it. I’ll send it out into social media and then I’m going to watch some trashy tv. Hold

Categories
Emotional Work

Day 269 and Pacing

I’m very defensive of my time. While I work at curtailing reactivity in my emotional growth, it’s still easy for me to feel invaded by obligations to others. Taking video or meeting in person was among my least favorite activities even before the pandemic. That’s one reason I’ve written extensively on how to communicate with me asynchronously. But another deeper reason is my fear of misusing my time. And tempting as it may be to project it onto others, I know that this fear is entirely about me.

I am very fearful of anyone needing things from me. I don’t mean things like money, favors or advice; though it is harder to say no than you’d think. My fear is deeper. I’m afraid friends and family will start to count on me for their emotional needs when I’m still figuring out how to be present for my own. I’ll deliberately put distance between myself and others to avoid feeling needed.

So what does this have to do with pacing? I’m not very good at giving myself enough space to be challenged and recovery. And when every encounter with another person is an emotional challenge, I need to be careful about pacing myself.

Maybe there is some latent autistic spectrum issues or maybe I have more trauma than I can consciously dig up but it’s a rare human that doesn’t make me anxious about the energy required for maintaining my own boundaries. It’s not about other people to be clear. It’s about me and my fears of being emotionally invaded.

As I build up more systems and accommodations to allow me to work effectively I need to figure out better pacing. How do I connect with others without emotional fear while still respecting my needs for down time and rest? Giving myself enough recovery has been an ongoing challenge that I write about extensively. But putting it into writing also serves as a valuable reminder to course correct before a crisis emerges.

Categories
Chronic Disease Emotional Work

Day 267 and Morally Neutral Accommodations

I resisted the idea of investing in a zero gravity chair. Because of my spinal condition, I find it more comfortable to work for extended periods when laying flat. Working from bed isn’t exactly ideal, emotionally or practically. And yet I wasn’t ready to sink a significant investment into my work station. Thankfully I ended my procrastination this week with the arrival of my new altwork station.

Altwork desk in a zero gravity position

It was a significant expense but I can now comfortably spend a full workday in a chair without any adverse affects. The only downside appears to be good old fashioned tiredness at the end of the day. I’m thrilled with the investment.

I wonder why I resisted the idea of investing in a comfortable desk for as long as I did. Maybe part of it was shame that I needed what felt like such an extravagant accommodation. I didn’t feel like I was worth it. Or perhaps I felt a disability isn’t something I wanted to invest in. It was something I wanted to invest in overcoming. Spending money on making my life more comfortable and functional with my disability was hard for me to swallow.

I felt if I worked hard enough at managing the symptoms of my ankylosis that perhaps eventually I’d be able to manage sitting at a regular desk for a full work day. But what kind of fools errand was I setting myself on that I desired not only discomfort but to work myself up to enduring even more discomfort? My goal was to make myself uncomfortable.

I’ve long frustrated my doctors by resisting pain management medications. I tell myself I should grin and bear it when it comes to pain. I treated pain as if it were a moral good. I suspect I was doing something similar with resisting a comfortable chair. I’ve got a problem with equating suffering with morality.

Thankfully I was able to set that aside and buy the zero gravity chair. Now rather than suffer and tell myself I’m a better person for it, I’ll actually get my work done in comfort. Which should have been the goal all along.

Categories
Chronicle

Day 266 and Out Like A Light

I nearly missed my daily commitment to write (or as it autocorrected “weird) everyday. Yesterday I was overcome by an intense need to sleep. I could barely manage to get a sentence on paper, tag it, and put it out before I passed out completely. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to missing my daily writing exercise in over two hundred days.

A narcoleptic spell would be pretty cool but I think it was a much simpler form of fatigue. I’d been so focused on a number of exciting projects (including a startup with a founder that is the best I’ve seen all year) that I just needed a rest. I couldn’t push it anymore and needed to sleep.

I didn’t feel any of the poisonous desperation from workaholic exhaustion that I’ve felt in the past. This felt like a simple tiredness that was so complete I couldn’t overcome. I fought off closing eyes as I tagged and hit publish.

And I was out. In the past fatigue has been a draining but far too lucid an experience. The kind of tiredness where you wish you could sleep but the combination of worry, focus, and anxiety would keep you awake is more familiar. I much prefer the clean tiredness of being unable to fight off sleep. Though if I need 12 hours of sleep if I work too many hours that might get a little annoying.

Categories
Emotional Work

Day 262 and Patience

I am in a transitional moment in life. I’ve spent the last two years climbing to my own personal mountaintop and studying at the feet of my own body’s masters. Being a student of myself and my limitations has been illuminating.

The montage scene of growing and becoming stronger in the monastery turns out to take a lot longer in real time than it does in the movies. Probably why they only show you the super cut. I did get to do most of it in isolation though so I guess that’s suitably cinematic. Most people probably imagine vows of silence not Tweeting alone from your bedroom during a pandemic but the effect is basically the same.

I can sense that I’m coming to the other side of some things. That my time becoming myself on the proverbial mountaintop is almost over. It is time to come down from my personal monastery and rejoin humanity with my learnings. I am an expanded soul from the experience of this hardship. But I’m also not quite finished with my journey back yet either.

Maybe in this metaphor I’m looking down on the city I am meant to rejoin. Or maybe I’m in a camp on my way down. Either way I feel eager to get back to the business of living in civilization. But I’m not there yet. Something is whispering patience to me. But I’m so close. I’m like an animal that knows it’s close to home and speeds up their pace. I’m anxious for the journey to conclude. But I’m not quite there yet. If you are waiting for me I’ll be there soon. What’s a couple more weeks after a couple of years after all?