A Reflection
| There was a period of my life where I was an ultra runner. For more than 7 years, I ran 3-5 days a week and for most of that time, a 10k was a short run, a half-marathon was a medium length run, and nothing short of 18 miles counted as long. I had a lot of grand adventures during that time, exploring landscapes there was no way I would have visited otherwise. I felt like Super Woman, strong and capable in my body. I wasn’t fast, but I could go all day and then I could get up and do it again the next day. And I really, really loved it. And then I had long-covid for the better part of three years. Getting out of bed was exhausting and each day I could choose to use my extremely limited energy on showering or making breakfast, but I probably couldn’t do both. Breathing, even while lying down, was painful. My immune system went haywire and what used to be a 24-hour cold that I barely registered would turn into a 2-month battle for my life. I re-experienced every infection and injury I’d ever had in my life, often times worse than I’d originally felt it. I had stabbing pain in my heart and my head for months at a time. And the brain fog was indescribably debilitating. After a lifetime lived as a nerd, I was struggling to finish sentences and forgot everything. As I think anyone with a chronic condition can attest, the depression was through the roof. Not only did I not feel like myself, but I’d lost the ability to hope or dream that someday I might feel anything good again. Then, thankfully, I spent more than a year healing and strengthening my nervous system (under the guidance of Primal Trust), which in turn, allowed me to recover from long-covid. I did the eye yoga and the breathing exercises. I journaled and mediated. I got myself back into therapy and did so, so much parts work. I cried and raged and sat and stared and rested and played and cared for myself in ways I’d never done before. Slowly but surely, not only did the debilitating physical symptoms recede, but I was able, once again, to experience things like delight, contentment, and curiosity. I felt hopeful and interested in life again. I experienced awe and wonder at the beauty of this gorgeous world we get to live in. I felt like I was coming home to the best version of myself. I’ve never known such relief and such joy. One thing that did not come back, magically, was my pre-covid body. Unsurprisingly, while predominantly lying down for three years, and focusing on feeling my feelings for another year, I gained about 20 pounds and lost the ability to run 20 miles through the mountains on any random Thursday. So much of my capacity has returned and I can see this daily, in my ability to, you know, walk around the block and not need a nap afterwards. Take a shower and eat breakfast and still feel like I can run errands or work a full day or play volleyball for a few hours. Without needing a month to recover. I know I am so much stronger and healthier than I was a year and a half ago. But I’m not running ultra-marathons, and that also shows, in the belly and the thighs and the love handles that I now bring with me everywhere I go. There are days when I find this frustrating, of course. When I miss the way those pants or that dress used to fit me. Especially as someone who hates to shop, finding clothes that fit my current body has been a struggle. And I miss the feeling of invincibility I used to have as I moved through the world. Being super fit was a sort of super power that made me feel immune to bad luck. But I also get it; my body did the best it could with the circumstances I was in. Together, we survived an assault like nothing we’d ever experienced before. And we healed from a lifetime of repressed emotions and buried trauma. That’s no small feat. Gaining 20 pounds seems like a reasonable way to respond. Now I find myself mentally and emotionally stronger than I’ve ever been in my entire life. (How cool it is to say that!? And to really feel it to be true?!) And physically, if not the weakest I’ve ever been, then definitely way below where I was 5 years ago. But with the ability, at a cellular level, to get stronger, to do more. And that’s really exciting. I don’t know that I want to be an ultra runner again. I know I’m not interested in doing things the way I used to do them, with strict training schedules and many runs that felt obligatory at best and torturous at worst. But I also know I really love moving my body. I know it feels good to be strong. And I love moving through a landscape with ease and confidence. I love trusting that my body can take me over that next ridge, around that next bend, and to the next waterfall, if I so choose. So here I am. Done with long-covid. Not done, but feeling very solid in my nervous system healing work. And ready to do more with this physical body of mine than I’ve done in a while. It’s helpful for me to remember that I didn’t just wake up one day and start running ultras. I trained for a half marathon first, then a marathon, then another marathon, then eventually a baby-ultra of just longer than a marathon. And that took over a year and a half. With that strict and torturous training schedule I want no part of now. It took me over 4 years to get this body I have now. It probably won’t be dissolved and made into something new this month. But I can start. Just like I started healing my nervous system. With bite-sized exercises most days and rest on the other days. With little changes towards movement and away from being sedentary. I started lifting a little bit of weight. I went for a hike. I played volleyball and was strong enough to serve the ball over the net. I danced around my kitchen. I’ve jogged a mile or so a couple of times. I won’t be winning any medals anytime soon, but I never really liked racing anyway. I just like moving my body, so that’s what I’m going to do. I guess I’ll see where it leads when I get there. |
