Tag: Stamina

Categories
Chronicle

Day 1000 and The Milestone

When I first started writing every single day I had modest goals. I wanted to instill a habit of writing more often. My initial goal was to write daily for one month as that seemed both significant but also manageable. But I deliberately didn’t put any pressure on what I would write or for how long I’d keep at it.

Once I had reached my first milestone of writing daily for an entire month, I began considering extending the habit. Maybe I could do it for two months? Maybe I could do it for 100 days? Every new milestone made me excited to reach for a new one.

Once I got to 500 days, I began to feel confident discussing the possibility of reaching 1000 days of writing. I even called that blog post my halfway point. Still I wasn’t sure even then that I’d actually make it to a thousand days. A lot can go wrong in a year or two. But as I learned, with a little bit of perseverance, a lot can go right. Or if you will indulge the pun, a lot can go “write” too.

Still, even as I became accustomed to the habit, I didn’t want to do anything to jinx it. Locking myself into an outcome seemed like a recipe for disappointment. But locking myself into a daily habit? That seemed like a recipe for success. I knew I could keep showing up.

My philosophy for writing has been to take it one day at a time. Habits compound just like money. Small change over time can have a dramatic outcome. I committed to showing up and putting the proverbial pen to paper every day.

And here I am a thousand days later with enough writing for any number of other goals. I’ve got answers to most of the regular questions I encounter in my personal and professional life. I’ve got enough content to turn into a book if I’m so inclined. The volume of my writing is so extensive I could easily train my own artificial intelligence agent.

I don’t know what I’ll do with this body of work other than continue to hyperlink it together and see where it takes me.

And to answer the most obvious question, I do plan to keep writing. I don’t have any desire to stop. I enjoy this practice. It’s conceivable there are other milestones ahead of me. Maybe I double it. Or maybe at the end of the year I decide three years of writing daily is enough.

Who can say? I reached the stretch goal I set for myself. It’s an unbounded journey from here.

Categories
Startups

Day 887 and Twenty Twenty Four Hours To Go

And I wanna be sedated. Alas I do have something to do and places to go. Namely home. So I better hurry hurry hurry before I go insane.

As I’ve covered at enormous length, I do not care for travel. My reoccurring nightmare is packing for a trip that never comes. A liminal state of impermanence, in which I must be prepared at any moment to grab all my belongings and leave.

My month in Europe flew by. I hardly noticed the time. Some of that is due to tie up and down nature of travel stresses. Most of it flew by because I was having fun.

I learned a lot on this trip. I learned about racism and pluralism and the ever present dangers of populism. I learned about green energy policy failures. I learned that freedom to travel and transact is a privilege reserved for the select few who have good passports. Colonial legacies and festering wounds from resource wars and genocides still keep borders closed. We are not yet one human species and it will get worse before it gets better.

As much as I am looking forward to being home in Montana for our glorious summers, I am leaving behind some pieces of my heart in Europe. I’ll be back soon. But only once the weather has cooled down again. Climate change and chronic illness are not good bedfellows. But in twenty four hours or so I’ll be home. And I hope to recover quickly from the stress of travel.

Categories
Biohacking

Day 866 and Sensory Overload

I was up very late last night as I had an evening commitment on Eastern Standard Time while I myself am on European Central Time. I finished at 6pm in New York but it was 2am for me. It was stimulating I was unable to fall asleep till well past 3am.

I didn’t successfully sleep in as much as I would have liked, so I found myself running on a bit less sleep than I would have preferred even though my Whoop suggested I was in the green with a reasonably high HRV score. When my biometrics are all in the green, even if I’ve had perceptually poor sleep, I try to let my data guide me.

I thought I was doing ok as I went about my routines and workload. I showered, meditated, did some work and even got a power nap in.

Still I found myself getting overwhelmed by basic sensory inputs. The sound of the cars on the road felt loud. I took a walk and found myself ordering an Uber to get home as I was tired and has gone too far. Alas, in the car, I found myself covering my ears and closing my eyes as the pop music and car incense overwhelmed two senses at once.

I felt as if I was an autistic cliche. I literally had my fingers in my ears humming to myself to calm myself down. After my nervous system mastery Bootcamp course, I knew my vagus nerve had gone into overstimulation.

I had gone into sympathetic shutdown without even realizing it. I couldn’t even think to ask the driver to turn down the music. I did what I could to breath.

It was a quick reminder that my daily life in the countryside of Montana is a lot easier on the body than a bustling city like Frankfurt.

Categories
Biohacking Travel

Day 861 and 8%

I’ve been on the road all week for work (and a little bit of play). I flew an overnight transcontinental from Seattle to Frankfurt Tuesday evening into Wednesday which is yesterday for America but with the time zone change feels like two days. While I am not jet lagged (a surprise) my Whoop recovery is the worst I’ve ever received. I got an recovery 8% score. And I feel basically fine

After a rocky encounter with a new airline carrier Condor, I struggled to stay asleep sleep on the airplane. I blame the excitement of the bizarre business class setup without assigned seating. Or maybe it was because I ended up making friends with my seat mate and swapped stories over dinner.

Usually when flying overnight I take an Ambien and immediately pass out. Better living through chemistry right? Plus I’m not naturally social. Instead I was doing face masks and debating White Lotus theories over a pretty decent seared tuna.

When I landed in Frankfurt I felt quite energetic and pushed through the afternoon with ease. Or maybe it felt easy as I had several cups of coffee. I thought I’d nailed the flight even though I knew I didn’t get enough sleep.

Once I’d settled into my Airbnb, I checked my previous night’s biometrics I realized I’d only recorded four hours of sleep and my HRV had dropped into the low teens. Maybe I’d made a mistake not “force quitting” myself into a hard sleep on the airplane with a downer.

My average HRV is usually in the forties which isn’t all that impressive to begin with (I’ve got a spinal condition called ankylosis spondylitis) but I hadn’t expected all my biometrics to go flashing red quite so badly when I felt mostly fine. My guess is that the 8% reflected a significant amount of stress and I’d simply not flushed the adrenaline and cortisol out of my system.

I’m keeping it low key today as a consequence. I was up at 7am European Central Time and went grocery shopping to stock the apartment. Getting sunlight is crucial and while I plan to keep EST hours mostly while I’m here it felt good to be up and about.

I managed to fit in some work, did a load of laundry, got some Ethiopian food for lunch and still feel like I can manage a work day. It’s now past 5Pm in Germany and America is just waking up on the west coast. My husband just texted me from San Francisco so it’s time to finish my day and start the day with everyone else.

Categories
Travel

Day 860 and Get What You Pay For

I flew a new airline on a transcontinental overnight. The airline is called Condor. The business class offering from Seattle to Frankfurt was very reasonably priced so when my husband said “let’s do this one,” I didn’t question it at all. He knows what he’s doing.

Perhaps I should have asked more questions. When I arrived at the check-in counter, I was surprised to learn that there was no assigned seating. You wait to be assigned at the gate and it is done first come first serve even in business class.

I wasn’t pleased with that situation at all, as I had to bring several medications with me including an expensive refrigerated IL-17 inhibitor. The gate agent told me my carry on was too heavy (it was 10kg) and instructed me to unpack as much as I could into my checked bag or I’d be forced to check the carry on as well. I stripped my carry-on to just medications and basic clothing, losing most of my electronics and work gear in the process.

At the TSA Pre-Check security line the guard tells me she has to throw out “my water bottle” as it’s had too much liquid. I do my best to explain that it’s actually a frozen ice pack inside a bottle meant to keep my injections cold for 24 hours without refrigeration and has perhaps melted a bit in transit. Thankfully she let me through once I pulled out the medicine.

Once I got to the gate I made a second attempt to secure an assigned seat. I got in a long line at least ten people deep. As I was in line it extended to well over 30. The area was packed with families ranging from elderly grandparents to anxious babies.

The gate agent said if I was at the front of waiting line I’d be more likely to get assigned a better seat but she couldn’t assign me one. This meant it was more likely my bag wouldn’t get gate checked. But I’d have to wait for them to call me for my assignment which happens during boarding. Weird.

I didn’t have it in me to fight for a seat and stand in a line for two hours so I kept asking how can I get an assigned seat? Are there any options to get a seat and priority boarding?

I’d assumed a business class product default came with them. But then again I’ve never been asked to repack my entire suitcase to overstuff my checked bag so my carry on could get under 8kg either

I’m glad I label everything when I pack and keep every category of item in separate packing cubes. My 3 bag cascade system for avoiding losing crucial items to gate checking and bad seating assignments came in handy. The effort was not wasted.

At the check-in area before security, the agent mentioned something about upgrading to Prime which was $300 and that was the only set of assigned seats the airline does. I was too confused to pull the trigger on buying it before I cleared security I thought surely the gate agent will find another way to get me an assigned seat. Nope! The only assigned seats are the prime ones. So feeling defeated and confused I paid up.

This long jet lagged story does have a happy ending though. Despite the confusion and chaos of having no assigned seating for business class, once I paid for Prime boarding the actual seat ended up being great.

My seatmate was an extremely cool and very stylish woman who I ended up bonding with over the length of the flight. She’d had a similar experience to me being confused by the lack of seat assignments and also paid up. We even exchanged phone numbers. So the $300 was worth it to meet her. Hi Fatima!

But if an airline doesn’t assign you seats or guarantee your priority boarding with a business class product I think maybe you need to consider another name for the product. Like international gladiator style flat lay perhaps. And maybe next flight I’ll fight it out. But this time I’m glad I paid up.

Categories
Chronic Disease

Day 827 and Temporal Displacement

Everyone probably remembers a moment during the pandemic when time lost all meaning for them. Maybe you regained your sense of time as schedules solidified back into the real virtual hybrid we’ve agreed to keep for some of us.

I don’t recall ever getting back my sense of time. It started earlier than the pandemic for me. I slipped the time train tracks sometime after Trump was elected, before the pandemic hit, but definitely during the course of rebuilding my health.

Maybe sometime in late 2018 it became temporal displacement. And the variables involved in the perception of time and my own sense of where I am in time has been a common theme on the blog.

I’ll be dimly aware that it’s a weekday or a weekend if I’ve got someone who needs my attention or if I’m producing a specific outcome on a timeline. But otherwise I’m basically the the grand dame in Downton Abbey. “What is a weekend?”

It is in fact coming up on a weekend. A weekend where I don’t appear to have any houseguests or events planned or much necessary to be handled. I only have temporal obligations for physical care of my body. So maybe I’ll be able to slip further out in time or maybe I’ll align back to standard American work week. I mostly want to sleep.

Categories
Chronic Disease Travel

Day 791 and Bathing Suits I’ve Never Worn

I’m on maybe my third or fourth trip to a warmer climate where I’ve brought a Norma Kamali bathing suit. I bought it on sale from Net-Porter as I’d always wanted one of her classic one pieces. I’ve never worn it.

For the casual reader, I have a chronic autoimmune disease called ankylosing spondylitis. It’s an inflammation condition that affects my spine and is aggravated by heat & humidity. Any temperature above above room temperature, give or take 72 depending on the humidity, starts to swell my tissues.

It’s well controlled with drugs but environmental factors can quickly spin up a bevy of symptoms including pain so debilitating I can’t walk. It’s one of the reasons we moved to Montana. I can live a semi-normal life so long as it’s cold. I spend most of my days laying flat in bed or in a zero gravity chair. My disability has become one of the super powers I use to propel my investing alpha. Because what else do you do with your time if you can’t leave bed except monitor financial indicators and chat with founders?

But back to the bathing suit. The black halter swimsuit has turned out to be entirely an aspirational garment. It’s still got the sanitary sticker for the crotch on it that says remove before wearing. I left it in and it’s become the not so subtle reminder that I may never enjoy a beach vacation again. It’s simply beyond my grasp unless I want to pay an obscenely high cost in pain and immobility.

I dutifully pack the Norma Kamali suit on each trip with a warmer climate. I’ve taken it to Miami, Texas, the Mediterranean and Mexico now. For this trip to Puerto Vallarta I packed a second bathing suit. It’s a striped bikini.

I had a fantasy that maybe I’d need a second swim suit as the other would need to dry if I swam every day. Oh what self deception we humans are capable of when it involves something we cannot have but want. I’ve never put the second suit on either. It also has the sanitary sticker still on it. It’s beginning to feel like they taunt me. Isn’t it funny that Julie still yearns to participate in the simple pleasures of life. “That dumb cunt” I imagine them murmuring as I pack.

My father loves tropical vacations. An adults only resort on a beach is his idea of a good time. And for his birthday, my brother and I very much wanted to give him what he wanted. Part of this is self protection as he often forgets to ask after other people’s preferences even if they are for something serious like a disease or disability. Better to avoid disappointment than know for sure. But also if we can give him what he wants why not make the sacrifice? It’s expensive for me energetically but I wanted to spend.

But it’s become clear I can’t make the sacrifices desired for the perfect fantasy family vacation. The bathing suit gets tossed in the suitcase with the knowledge that I can only manage one event outside each day. It’s usually a dinner or a chat.

Then I must sleep it off and work to recover. There is no space for pleasant relaxation on the beach in my body. The compressed Lycra slowly battling the expansion of my tissues as they swell overlapping with stuck lymphatic liquids would be torture. There is no joy to be found and no extra capacity to be eked out that might make the experience mimic the pleasure in a healthy body.

The fantasy is just that. A delusion I have about a life a lost and unlikely to be regained. The after effects of fertility treatments, IVF and living hard to outrun the vicissitudes of capitalism. I’ve accepted it as my lot in life. But it’s much harder to get it across to the rest of the world. And my fear that I’ll be left out and forgotten, that if I don’t fit myself into someone else’s life I’ll be abandoned. And so I rationalize that I’d be abandoned if I don’t at least try to bring the bathing suit. Even though going to the beach is a fantasy.

I hope my friends and family are able to meet me half way but I remain afraid that they don’t know how, or are unable to imagine what it’s like to live in my body. And it would be nice to be met halfway.

Categories
Biohacking Chronic Disease Travel

Day 789 and Types of Poverty

As you’ve probably seen articulated in thought leader tweet streams and thot-leader Medium posts, there are different kinds of millionaires. If you are young you are a time millionaire. If you are able bodied and healthy you are an energy millionaire.

I am in energy poverty. I carefully ration my attention & time and use lots of time-economic craft like asynchronous communication like emails and direct messages. Like a thrifty person with a budget I am always cutting the various coupons of time in my life to cobble together enough time to work full time so that no one can tell I’m energy poor.

It’s pretty common for folks to be in energy poverty. Maybe you are a parent. Maybe you are a care giver for an elderly parent. Maybe both. The most common is of course being disabled and requiring care. I am in that category.

I’ve turned my energy poverty into my super power. I am like Mr World monitoring feeds across the globe laying back and ingesting information & taking small minute actions to adjust my plans. I’ve adjust my career to fit this reality and find it to be an excellent fit for investing as it’s all about finding the alpha and acting on it.

I do telegraph that I’m in this situation. That my mind is sharp but my body is weak. I accept 2-3 events a week at maximum that require me to be up, about, in makeup and battle regalia (business dress) and the rest is dedicated to recovering.

I’ve never had hobbies that couldn’t be done from bed. The last time I participated in a sport was in my twenties before my latest flare. I’ve not had a social life independent from work for decades. It’s isolating and I remain perpetually afraid of losing people who aren’t in the same situation of energy poverty as I am.

Capacity can be drained further by negative conditions like heat, humidity or bright light. I am the type of disabled person that finds showering to be a huge drain so typically include those in my energy budgets as drains. Travel requires 24-48 hours of minimum recovery time which is why I tend only do month long stays places. You may have noticed I go cold places like Prague or Frankfurt and I live in Montana. That’s based on doctor recommendations.

Certain types of travel can’t be done without significant outlays of energy budget that will leave me in deficit for weeks. Beach vacations have long ago been lost but I can manage a tropical location so long as I stay entirely inside in an air conditioned room. Don’t worry laying on the beach isn’t fun for me so I’m not missing anything. Heat & salt water humidity is the fastest way for my body to begin an inflammation cycle.

I’m in Puerto Vallarta for my father’s birthday and the best I can manage is stay in my room all day and a dinner every other night. It’s a little confusing for folks who aren’t in energy poverty to fully grasp the concept but I feel no more frustrated with my situation than I would if I had financial poverty. Sometimes it’s just the situation and your budgets have hard limits. I’ll make an effort and spend 2 weeks of an energy on a long weekend for someone I love but it does cost me. Everything costs something.

Categories
Chronic Disease Travel

Day 786 and Snow Birds

I woke up at 5am this morning to begin my journey from Bozeman to Puerto Vallarta. My father’s 80th birthday celebration is taking place in the appropriately warm tropical conditions so favored by retired snow birds. And it’s his party so he gets to chose his favorite location for us to gather to celebrate him.

Both my father and I live in Montana, but he tends to prefer travel more than me by a wide margin. I travel mostly for work and family obligations. I don’t find travel to be fun or an enjoyable luxury. Vacations aren’t my thing. Especially when it involves travel to somewhere hot. I would have been happy to celebrate in the -20 in Glacier personally.

Most of dislike of travel comes down to not caring for hot weather because of how much it hurts my body. It makes my spine swell. Humidity and heat are my enemy. I live in Montana partially for health reasons as anything above about 75 kicks in some of my inflammation issues.

Add in the additional strain on the spine of sitting in uncomfortable seats for hours and I’m currently struggling mightily not to wail uncontrollably from the pain. I desperately want to lay flat to ease some of the tension that has built up from needing to hold my body still and upright in uncomfortable airplane seats. I don’t want anyone to see that I’m barely holding back tears because the pain is so bad.

Alex got tisked by the flight attendant for trying to retrieve some of medication as we’ve got one of those useless bulkhead seats. It’s a terrible choice for even a modest disability as all the things that keep me functional in my travel bag were immediately whisked into overhead compartments. We didn’t do it fast enough and the attendant hovered asking that we hurry it up.

I haven’t done short haul flights in a while as most of my travel has been flat lay seats on international overnights. I wasn’t prepared for how much sitting up in a tight domestic airline seat would hurt. All I want to do is lay flat on a bed for 24 hours after this.

I’m on an airplane packed to the gills with Lily Pulitzer knock off wearing Boomer blondes and their salmon shirt wearing deeply tanned husbands. They all seem cheerful and excited to be headed to Mexico. Snowbirds are a colorful species. An exotic and hopefully endangered species that will eventually give way to more local and regional appreciation as the next generation of travelers pursues less Jimmy Buffet stylings.

Categories
Startups

Day 761 and Calls

Yesterday ended up being a big day for me. A couple projects that have been in the works for months for final confirmations. That meant I spent a lot of time on phone calls yesterday.

I hadn’t planned for Monday to be so busy. I have therapy in the late afternoons so I tend to back my mornings but I still leave enough breaks to come down from the energy and excitement of a big call. I find synchronized communications to be a little overstimulating so I like to meditate and do Wim Hoff breathing to break down my cortisol levels.

But I couldn’t make it happen yesterday. It was too much back to back. I went from an hour long fact checking media call right into my two hour group therapy session. I’d had a few other smaller calls before it as well.

My earbuds were the first to note the issue. With about fifteen minutes left in my two hour Zoom I got the 10% battery left warning from my AirPods. My technology realized it was time to recharge before I did.

And boy was the decay quick. The AirPods went bwoooop and went dead. I could feel myself getting a little dazed myself. As soon as I was off the call I checked my HRV using Welltory and found all my systems were drained. Too many calls has called on too few resources.