It’s been more than a week since I posted, and this is week three of reintroducing exercise. I have started this post about five times, writing about different things, but none of them have felt right. I don’t really know why I’m struggling to get into the flow. Maybe because this doesn’t really feel like a major ‘change’—it’s not a trial to see how it makes me feel before I decide whether to keep doing it. It’s exercising. It’s something I do. Always has been, always will be.
I’m not pushing to the max just yet; my lungs still need a little time to recover, but I managed a frantic half-waddle run to the car because it was pouring with rain last night—which basically counts as an Olympic sprint given how far I’ve come. I’m even thinking I’m going to Parkwalk this Saturday, and yes, the irresistible drawcard of publicly wearing a neon tutu may have everything to do with it.
On the whole, life is starting to get back to ‘normal.’ Don’t get me wrong, the last week has had its challenges, mainly battling the shitty flu that completely took out half my office. The lingering cough is still politely letting me know it was there, but my energy levels have bounced back, and I feel pretty much like myself. I’ve started to get back into the regular rhythm with work, have finally got back out into the community, and the result is that I’m busy there too now.
Looking back at the last seven days, the absolute best highlight has been a profound shift in my recovery metrics. I’m not entirely sure what triggered it, or if it’s purely a byproduct of the gym comeback, but my overnight recovery has finally stabilized. My Heart Rate Variability (HRV) is precariously balanced again, sitting at a 7-day average of 38ms. Alongside that, my sleep has remained remarkably consistent with an overall score average of 80. The only true anomaly was a single, really apocalyptic night on Sunday, which happened to be the exact moment I was hit hardest by the virus.
The week wasn’t completely seamless. I’m tired. And for me, that often means I’m incredibly grumpy. When I consider that my poor body has just spent the last three months in super-structural repair mode, then quickly pivoted and fought off a wicked virus trying its best to finish me off, it’s not really that surprising that it’s tapped out. But it’s annoying, nonetheless. I’ve considered tweaking my routine—shifting my workout times, getting up later—but it doesn’t really work. If I want ‘me’ time where my brain is operating, early mornings are that space.
As I mentioned above, I’ve started and restarted this post five times; all those times were in the evening. I snuggle on the couch with my big boy, he has a Netflix binge, and I stare mindlessly at the computer waiting for inspiration that never comes. Right now, it’s 4:45 am and the words are finally flowing. They may not be incredibly purposeful, but at least it’s something! The problem with using this time—which is definitely when my brain is most active and on—is that it means I have to postpone the gym, which results in a perpetual internal argument. Today I plan to go before work, but I’m already considering whether I would be better to try and squeeze it in at lunchtime. God, balance is hard!
Anyway, overall my metrics are starting to show that my body is beginning to stabilize and return to homeostasis. My parasympathetic nervous system—the rest and recover system—is finally coming back online. While my body was working hard to heal my broken bones and fight off a virus, rest and recovery went on the back burner; keeping me alive took priority. Over the last month or two, I’ve questioned why my HRV has been so low, and this very much explains it. Now that the foot is almost fully functional and the flu is vanquished, my body is finally able to get the R&R it has been so badly in need of.
It’s funny, really—until I broke my ankle, I had always thought people who didn’t come to work because of a broken bone were just taking the piss, using any excuse to go on ACC and flout their responsibilities. I formally apologize to those I have wrongly judged in the past.
Looking at the harsh reality of my stats in black and white gave me pause to question some of my deep-seated internal beliefs around laziness and resilience. It made me realise how deeply embedded I am in that classic ‘hustle culture’—the unwritten rule that says you keep going, no matter what. This is a massive thing in NZ with our ‘she’ll be right’ and ‘suck it up, princess’ attitudes. We are told to tough it out and take some concrete pills to harden up.
But my biometrics gave me a brutal reality check. My brain was screaming at me that I was lazy, that I was just looking for an excuse to get out of work, and that my entire human value was based solely on what I could produce. Meanwhile, my metrics were clearly showing that continually pushing was a fast-tracked recipe for total disaster and burnout. Our bodies don’t care about our cultural work ethic or our desire to look tough; they just understand biology. Repairing a major injury requires massive amounts of raw energy, and you simply cannot fake homeostasis with sheer willpower. I have finally learnt, if you don’t get the message when your body and the universe are dropping subtle hints, you will eventually find yourself flat on your back with pins sticking out of your leg, peeing in a bedpan, and unable to move for two weeks after life completely smacks you in the face.
So here we are—I finally managed to produce something to post! Yay me. I’m aiming to post again later this week and will starting exploring what else I can take on for the next experiment. Maybe I’ll choose something a bit more left-field and less ‘normal’ so there’s more to explore. Ideally, it will be something to dramatically improve my mood so my poor family and the co-pilot don’t have to read my public apologies in these posts every single week…
And being that this is a very belated post and it’s Wednesday, we are on the countdown to the weekend, to Saturday the 22nd, which happens to be global parkrun ‘Tutu Day’! I’m calling out to anyone who wants to come walk and wear a tutu—we will be at Anderson Park at 8:00 am this Saturday morning, rain, hail, or shine. Come join us! It’s the perfect excuse to channel your inner princess and get in some exercise so you can sleep through the rest of the weekend entirely guilt-free.