Tag: Stamina

Categories
Chronicle Emotional Work

Day 1994 and Wondering if 2000 Days Should Be The End? Or A New Beginning

I am getting closer and closer to a big milestone on here. Day 2000! I’ve been writing for two thousand days in a row and hitting publish. Five years and five months (almost six at 5.7 months) or 285 weeks of daily journaling in public.

I began in the height of the pandemic, and one can hardly recall just how bizarre those years were now. The great weirdening which began long before the pandemic arrived for almost everyone sometime in those long years.

Static and yet unstable. A long horizon of the long now, keeping us in semi-stasis as the institutional bulwarks cracked, and then crumbled, and then began accelerating into change. Everyone is holding on tight and pretending like it’s not a white knuckle era.

We are over the vibe shift, the Vibecession, and another vibe change after that and who knows what is coming next. I feel the same sense of being unmoored as I did when I started.

This despite having built a stable and thriving family and investing career. The biggest problems I had when I started (children, visas, family abroad) remains the same problems I have now. The temptation to simply change how we live is ever present. We escaped from some of flatland but more can be done to build communities and nations that are capable of thriving in the ceaseless change.

I still feel like I don’t know what’s coming, even as the future I sensed has come into being at an alarming right. But the perpetual not knowing can drain hope and energy if you are not careful to replenish. It’s exhausting physically too. The energy to understand what’s coming gets harder day by day and so we must get stronger ourselves.

I’ve probably put over a thousand hours of writing into this (maybe closer to 1500 as it runs from 20-45 minutes of time on any given day) so I’m a better writer but I don’t know if I’ve become a more palatable or appealing one. I don’t care too much as this is for me more than it is for any audience.

Most humans seem to prefer smoothed algorithmic writing over hand crafted artisanal human writing. Which is fine by me, as I don’t necessarily want to change my personal spaces to pander to anyone.

I was on a podcast recently where I reiterated my hope for being a node in the future. I want us to hope for the best by seeing clearly about the worst. That focus on solving problems is replenishing for the soul.

I’ll remain a little under the radar as a specialty node broadcasting to my oddballs. I’ll feel better about broadcasting know that is the long. The longevity posting, the nuclear posting, the odd travels and strange people posting will continue. I will try to broadcast on the pirate wires of the human web.

Categories
Preparedness Travel

Day 1993 and All Systems Red

I am in an all systems flashing red kind of place today. I slept poorly, my stomach and colon are tied up in knots, my HRV is in the basement around 12 while my RHR is in the stratosphere at 99bpm. It’s possible I’m sick on the road.

1871 days of Whoop and my metrics only ever seem to get worse

I moved from one crummy “luxury” hotel to another in an attempt to see the area and save a few bucks. I wanted to see the construction in a town where I’m interested in buying some real estate.

Why am I looking at real estate? Well it’s for both investment purposes and for freedom of movement Plan B scenarios for my extended family. And nothing makes you appreciate America quite like not being able to rely on America for your family.

So apologies to anyone who needs me on the grid. It isn’t going to happen for a bit. You can text me but I might end up ignoring you unless it’s an emergency.

I’ve holed myself up with instant ramen, Gatorade, some fruit, and a 12 pack of bottle water and I hope that’s enough to get me to the other side of whatever is ailing me. Maybe I can sleep through it.

Truth be told I think I’m just sad. Or maybe it’s hormones. Maybe it’s the frustration of making any sort of plans that don’t involve America as I hate being of the country. I love Montana. I love America. It’s just harder being away from home.

Categories
Medical Travel

Day 1981 and Unpacking Your Stuff

I write about packing so much on this daily blog that you’d think I’d have an equally large collection of posts on the art of unpacking. I enjoy unpacking emotions, family systems work, a complicated social graph so why not my travel bags?

The forethought and execution required for a well packed travel bag in summer high season is a tactical exercise I both love and loath. My husband and I compete on who can most effectively compress down different categories of items from first aid kits to travel cosmetics.

I am however in my mind not a particularly fastidious unpacker. Or maybe I am? I repack my bags on the return leg as closely as possible to resemble the outbound packing trip. There are labeled bags for under garments, separates, and dresses.

I’ll transition some garments into a bag that is designated laundry, but I’ll almost always take laundry detergent with me. So it’s not unusual for me to make a return trip with clean clothing. When one travels as much as I do it can help to treat as much of road life as you would your regular life.

I unpack immediately upon arrival at my destination whether that is home or away. I prefer to get things out and tucked into the proper drawers and line ups. This applies doubly when I return home. I once had a suitcase sit unpacked for two weeks after a particularly bad flare. It was a nightmare.

So today I had unpacking work that required a bit of disassembling of multiple types of trip packs from gala makeup and silk gown to Greek island hopping swimsuits and even Utah desert nuclear facility visiting garments. It’s been a pretty busy couple of weeks.

I feel almost like I’ve found the bits and bobs of items that were misplaced inside tiny pockets or stowed away in unseen baggies. I am still searching for a few things but unpacking why the unpacking took so long is for another day.

Categories
Culture Medical

Day 1962 and Piss in a Can

Women are at a bit of a disadvantage to men when it comes to relieving ourselves. Yes I am talking about taking a piss.

From road trips to the backcountry, we’re forced to hike up our skirts (or worse shimmy down our pants) and aim our stream through squat & thrust such that it lands where we desire without soiling our garments or surrounding areas.

You might be wondering why I’ve got such a urological topic on my mind. And I might remind you it is not as if my writing lacks for lewd colloquialisms. Some readers may recall my viral hit “dick riding” so if you are inclined towards Freud we can have a chuckle about penis envy. And today it might even be true.

I am at the moment stuck in a literal can. I am nearing the end of a session of hyperbaric chamber oxygen therapy. To be specific, my 27th session on my second round of the therapy. My first round of it was forty sessions last fall. I am rounding the end of my second set in the next two weeks.

I happen to feel dare I say good this most recent round of HBOT. It’s a marvel what it can do for the lungs and for healing wounds. However I can’t credit my current upswing just to the oxygen I’m breathing in while under two atmospheres of pressure.

I have gone off my biological injection Bimzelx after a frightful year of infections despite its excellent ability to squash down inflammatory biometrics like CRP and sed rate. I’ve added in hormone therapy via testosterone and estradiol pellets (also my second round of them). The big change is that I am heading into my forth week of injecting experimental peptides.

Those had a hell of an adjustment, but seem to have done absolutely everything which was claimed by their champions in terms of anti-inflammatory benefits. Alas I am not sure if I should discuss them too much lest I get in trouble for being ahead of the insurance rackets. My doctor supervised and approved of them which should be good enough but one never knows.

That was a long way of saying that this combination of discontinuing old expensive therapies and adding in new cheaper less expensive treatments is adding up to a lot more mobility and capacity for me.

So today I went hiking and I lifted weights. Actual under the bar squats in my own rack like an actual human. The kind of active life that I’ve been desperately trying to regain for years.

So I’ve drank rather a lot of water today. More than perhaps I should have, as here I am in a pressurized can absolutely desperately wishing I could urinate.

Alas I am waiting the timer praying for decompression to arrive so I can relieve myself in a proper water closest. And thus we circle back to the penis envy.

It’s just that I have an empty can in here with me, it’s not out of the question I could find relief in that manner. Perhaps I’d have a better treatment. My heart rate is higher than I’d like and my bladder is unhappy about the pressure. But I’ve got no aim and little room for error.

Just imagine the smell. If urine smells in a well ventilated area like a roadside rest stop, just imagine how it might smell in a pressurized tube. It’s not a place you want to fart I’ll tell you that much. So wetting the blankets, upholstery, and my clothing in here would be a disaster. I’d never get the smell out.

So here I am laughing to myself about wanting to piss in a can. Maybe a good reminder to buy one of those hiking helper devices for women. You never know what kind of situation I may find myself in this summer if I can actually move my body comfortably again.

Categories
Chronic Disease

Day 1954 and Constriction

I am in so much pain today. The tendon bands that wrap from my sternum around my thoracic to my spine is badly inflamed. It’s hard to breathe smoothly when your own tendons are choking you out.

I had a fairly intense week what with the chaotic back and forth in the national policy debate around artificial intelligence. There have been swirling rumors and much back and forth. Nothing feels worse than seeing your own industry shoot itself in the foot as the stakes get bigger.

Last night Alex and I went for a long walk in the long hours of sunset. It felt as if every living creature from the ducks in our pond to horses out to pasture was taking in the perfect spring evening.

We stopped and chatted with each neighbor as being outside was on everyone’s agenda with the clear sky and warm weather. The joy of greenery had the undercurrent of concern. A dry winter will have its consequences. One of our neighbors who keeps horses mentions their hay costs had doubled from last year.

The worry and activity is taking its toll today. O am paying for all this activity. My activity costs are just as high as alfalfa. From phone calls and activism to sunset rambles through the foothills the costs are mounting. I am hurting from the good and the bad.

Categories
Emotional Work Internet Culture Preparedness

Day 1900 and I Have Another 100 Days of Writing In Me But Should I Have More?

Just a hundred more days of writing and I’ll have two thousand days of consecutive writing published on this humble website.

Nineteen hundred days is a little over five years. It is a lot of writing and a testament to my own capacity to keep going. Every threshold I cross requires asking if I should keep going.

Day 2000 will towards the end of June. And what then? On July 4th hopefully I’ll be celebrating America’s 250th birthday with a crew who built a working nuclear reactor that I funded. The near term has goals and milestones. The long term is much fuzzier. Scarier. Murkier. Beyond my sight.

I’ve covered a lot of life in half a decade. There was lot of work and lot of investments and a lot of change. I’m glad I have such thorough records of my thinking. As more rupture, dislocation and chaos emerge from the acceleration how do I best hang on? Can I steer?

I can use this material to provide context on my mental model and worldview. This was intended both for myself but also the many other models built on content from humans on the open internet. I contributed a lot to training artificial intelligence models just by showing up.

Now that the models have shown up how safe is it for individual humans to show up? Remaining visible and human seems quite risky. When you strip the niceties of civilization and my place in it realism rears its ugly head. I am little more than frail woman in a dangerous world.

Maybe the sooner I stop showing up publicly the safer I’ll be. I am almost certain that is that will be true. I doubt it is the good, the beautiful or the righteous thing to do.

Categories
Biohacking Chronic Disease

Day 1899 and Off To Sleep

I regret to say that after yesterday’s various excitements through my continued ill health; did not leave me with anything for today.

I crawled out of bed for a coffee far too late. Was greeted by marginally better biometrics such I think my Whoop took pity on me by giving me a green.

The trouble with context and personalization? It was only barely better than the reds of the worst that continued into a week of yellows where my resting heart rate and heart rate variability went in the wrong direction.

I largely spent today sleeping because I could t get enough last night. I hope you don’t mind if I go back to my nap as waking up was a challenge.

Categories
Biohacking Medical

Day 1890 and It Bears Repeating Or Does It?

I can’t say I have fully recovered from pushing myself to my operational limits to do work (which looks a lot like socializing in my line of work) while still recovering from an infection after dental work.

It’s always recovering from an infection these days. I’ve been on some kind of antibiotic or anti-fungal every day since October.

2025 for me was getting an infection and then recovering from an infection on repeat. Ever since I decided to swap my biological injection 15 months ago from Coesyntx to Bimzelx and I think I’ve hit my limit.

It’s just too damn depressing that it’s a constant threat that I’ll have either a soft tissue infection or an abscess or a swollen gland that turns into a staphylococcus colony.

It’s as if I’ve got no skin biome left which is almost certainly true. I think I’d rather have CRP and sed rates and risk other infections than be rotating antibiotic varietals like some kind of junky afraid to develop a dependency.

Except instead of pain pills or lady downers it’s amoxicillin versus doxycycline versus Cipro with the occasional dalliance with a macrolide. I’ve also come to appreciate the benefits of Fluconzole. It’s not great. If you want a quick AI generated overview scan along

  • Beta-lactams: This broad group includes penicillins (e.g., amoxicillin), cephalosporins (e.g., cephalexin), and carbapenems (e.g., meropenem). They work by inhibiting cell wall synthesis.
  • Macrolides: (e.g., azithromycin, erythromycin) These inhibit protein synthesis and are often used for respiratory infections.
  • Tetracyclines: (e.g., doxycycline) Used for a wide range of infections, they inhibit protein synthesis.
  • Fluoroquinolones: (e.g., ciprofloxacin, levofloxacin) Broad-spectrum antibiotics that inhibit DNA synthesis.

My problem is that going back to my old biologic will take three to four months to full dose and it’s not a risk free process. And my full biometric panel is better on Bimzelx so is it really so bad that my resting heart rate is in the upper nineties every other week?

I think it may be time for me to make a pilgrims to the remaining clinics and pretend that I have any remaining institutional trust. Maybe I can vibe code something usual along the way.

I intend to support others on this journey as I’ve been chronically this journey a long time and the times are changing as we bring more artificial intelligence to the inference issues around our biometrics.

Categories
Aesthetics Community Internet Culture

Day 1888 and Touch Sand

As the “monitoring of the situation” reached whole new levels, I took some time to touch grass today. I don’t think I opened more phone more than a dozen times before writing tonight.

So many mutuals are teaching themselves automation skills by building situation monitoring boards that maybe the Department of War doesn’t need Claude. It was charmingly easy to keep up. Which is a very distorted and dystopian way of living out the hard realism of kinetic power in real time.

If America is backstopping Loyld’s of London shipping insurance, then to repeat a Keanu Reeves meme style. Yeah I’m thinking that America is back. But I’m getting to old for this shit. It’s all TV tropes now as we unmoor in the propaganda. Which is run by an honest to goodness critical theorist who trained with Jurgen Habermas.

So instead I stared out over the horizon as the wind gently brought fresh air in from across a wide open vista. I enjoyed my friend’s company as we talked about jhanna meditation and compute pricing. We saw a seal winning along the shoreline. I put on sunscreen twice as we stayed out in the sun.

How luxurious is it I had long leisurely in-person time with a friend. Not all of my business is with friends but I cherish the ones with whom I do.

We walked and talked and broke for lunch and discussed problems from the most abstract to the most precise. Having given the world so much access to all of human creation and taste, did the market provide an original version of the driftwood horse decoration or has there only ever been the mass market design? Neal Stephenson fans get it. Baudrillard too.

Fashion people and technology people worry about these questions of taste because they are questions of control and tooling. The source culture of engineering culture shared context. How abstract is too abstract? What is enough to enable the builder to use your tool?

It was good to be outside in the sun with someone and talk. That activity needs no shared context beyond humanity. We have missed it in the hubbub.

Isn’t it funny how just as the internet is losing its humans, the humans who met only thanks to the marvels of the network are finding new offline systems? The network can reprogram itself.

I have dear friends and successful investments that I have spent hardly a single moment commingled in time and place with. I imagine that age is either just beginning or just ending and I am not sure which. So today I was outside in the sun talking. I don’t know if we made any progress but maybe I’ll only know in the far future.

Categories
Chronic Disease Emotional Work Travel

Day 1841 and Lapping It Up

As we do our yearly family planning retreat (such as startup couple cliche) I’ve been balancing the stress of the wider chaos of the moment and my body’s turmoil.

It’s contrasted with the calm and removed relaxation of a hotel with excellent hospitality. The soft attention to detail is a blessing on a body that is not quite up to factory standards.

As we go over goals, budgets, allocations and timelines the stress is buffered by being able to take breaks to walk alongside the waterfront or swim laps in the quiet infinity pool.

That might not seem like a triumph, if you don’t know me it sounds like a stupid humble brag about my very fine life. But I’ve spent years unable to wear a bathing suit at all because of the pain cause by Lycra’s pressure on inflamed tendons and tissues. Three years ago I wrote about the bathing suit I’d never work

And today I was able to dive in and do the butterfly and the backstroke as if it were the kind of workout I do all the time. The possibility of improvement is here.

One of the planning goals is to see how far we can take my health with nutrition, sleep, physical therapy and other modalities that rely on movement and self healing over the many intense drugs I’ve needed to calm the flares. I almost believe it’s possible. And I sure plan to try.