The Physiology that is Me

As of late, several articles (some with actual scholarly studies referenced) have popped up regarding the relationship between depression and exercise--specifically that exercise:

• Helps protect the brain from depression
• Coexists with depression in ultra distance athletes
• Helps regulate ADHD

You wouldn't know it from the above picture, but I was pretty depressed at the time it was taken in March of this year. In fact, I just found the photo on my Facebook page this morning!  It was taken in Red Rock Canyon in Nevada. I was supposed to do a marathon there, but my right foot had been uncooperative (it's much better now), and so I decided to "do" the 5k with my friend, Susan. Still, I was able to run up ahead and back to her (I asked her if this was OK before doing it), and then I was able to run the last few miles of the marathon with another friend, Jen.

I felt so bad at that time that I seriously considered cancelling the trip altogether. Why? Because I didn't want to have to "fake" emotions like happy, interested, etc. For depression turns you into a person who is unable to give a fuck even if you wanted to (read this and this). It's this lack of emotion that makes you withdraw from people because they will expect you to interact and you just know they will want to know what's wrong and how they can fix it. And the stress of that can be unbearable.

But I knew that I needed to get out of town and make the trip, and knew that being around Susan would be a good thing no matter what. While I was there, I had this constant sense of making an extreme effort to be normal--interested in other people, inquisitive, usual stuff. I also had this sense of fear of fucking up and saying something hurtful, because one of the things that goes through my head when I get depressed is that I don't want to inflict it on those around me, yet worry about freaking others out. Everyone has their own issues--some far worse than whatever I am experiencing. I am not a good actor, and many times while I was there, inside my head I was really struggling to hold it together.

When I got back from that trip, which I actually enjoyed, because the intellectual/spiritual/artistic side of me couldn't help but suck in the incredible beauty, I made a commitment to go to counseling. The first step was calling my medical plan hotline to get authorization, and breaking down bawling my eyes out telling some nurse that I'm depressed. And being asked, "How do you know you are depressed?" Fuck lady, because I KNOW. Because I'M TALKING TO YOU RIGHT NOW.  Next, you get the question, "Are you thinking about hurting yourself?" Honestly? I had thought about it once or 10 times. But it was just thinking about it. Like standing on top of Hoover Dam and thinking I could just hand someone my bag and get up on the ledge and jump. Or standing on the relatively new roadway/pedestrian bridge on the other side of the dam (where I later read is a too popular place for suicide) and thinking what it would be like to just jump off.

I didn't mention any of those thoughts to the nurse on the phone, because someone might have come and locked me up for that. There is a difference between ideating suicide and actually planning it. I did mention it to the therapist, though, and she didn't lock me up!

I ended up going for 6 sessions. I tried a low dose of Wellbutrin and decided I wanted none of that. In all, I was depressed for 3 months. That's not a super long time, but trust me it was enough. And I was only in it for maybe 3 weeks (from the time I acknowledged I WAS) when I went to Nevada, so actually I feel good that I pulled the trigger on counseling rather quickly.

One of the things that contributed to the depression was that I made a seemingly logical decision to step away from long course triathlon. However, as much sense as that made to me at the time (more time for friends, romance, life in general), I had no clue how to make the transition. Coupled with a bum foot, and feeling that I needed to change my life completely, BAM! Depression. Really just one ill thought out decision followed by another.

So I found myself working out much less, and falling deeper and deeper into a black hole. I tried explaining to the therapist how the endurance stuff had been my life and how I felt like I was experiencing withdrawal but kept saying that stopping it was all for the best even while inside my head part of my brain was just not buying it. It is tough to explain the whole thing to someone who's never done it. It was MY LIFE. And a pretty damn good one at that.

Once I began talking out loud about all what I thought I needed to change with the therapist, I got brave enough to tell a few close friends. Some just listened to me babble and I'm sure thought, "Yeah right like you will not do that anymore." But at the same time I thought I was buying into the concept, time passed, the weather improved and I began enjoying running and biking outdoors again. I had stopped swimming for a few months, but I had to start because someone insisted that I commit to a race I'd signed up for. Now, I LOATHE going into any race unprepared, but for this one I had to be happy with whatever I could get done by race day, and it would have to be enough.

So now with a small goal of DON'T SUCK TOO BADLY IN THIS RACE, having navigated a major role change at work, and relaxing about not needing to change EVERYTHING about my life ALL AT ONCE, I began feeling better, and became annoyed at therapy. I realized I'd overloaded myself with potential changes and that I had better things to do besides being depressed and going to therapy!

That was in June that I quit therapy. I felt better, but not great, until I got some clarity and saw a doctor about my foot so I knew what I was really dealing with and had some revelations of my own on how to manage it (it's more of an art than science). As I began to be able to tolerate more running, I felt better. And I love biking. I had still put a cap on how much training I would do as I was only going to do some sprint races.

But weird things happened. My break from swimming got me out of over thinking it, and recently a bunch of things have clicked as far as stroke mechanics. I showed up at a few races and did pretty well considering I was just winging it as far as training goes. I acquired competence at my new job role. I received the gift of coaching a friend for his own race.

But all that is not the point of this post. The point is that for ME, there is a certain level of training where my physiology changes in a significant way, and it happens to be at a significant level of training (I'm not saying!). I've monitored my mood and body over the last few months and it's like the switch went back on. Some people try and tell me it's endorphins. Nope. I don't really experience runner's high. Mostly I get to not think when I am working out. Not thinking may correspond to the first referenced article in this post. Or at least my sense of "not thinking" may be equivalent to my body clearing out that kynurenine. I have this strong sense of my brain chemistry being significantly altered when I get to a certain metabolic state, and everything about me functions better--focus, mood regulation, organization skills, stress management. It seems counter intuitive, but the more I do the better I do.

So I decided to stop fighting it and am actively training and planning for some long stuff again. Maybe that means there will come another time when I feel there is a hole in my life, or maybe not. For now, I think it is just how I am wired, and that I need to just go with it. I would volunteer to have some sort of comprehensive blood workup to see what's going on, so if anyone knows of someone who wants to study me, let me know!

Every time I have been mildly or majorly depressed, I am still able to have some clarity about what I learned from it. This time:

• I have a new appreciation for the total amount of stress I can handle, and that (like most mortals) when I am going over, something has to give. Probably training, but that should be the last resort, because that is what keeps me from going over the edge.
• I need to be gentler with myself. I used to be fanatical about gardening--now it's gone wild and I don't care. I never make my bed. I hate doing dishes and don't do them often enough. But there's room in other areas to give less of a fuck, too.
• I am a pretty competent person even when I feel out of control. I need to remember that.
• It's ok sometimes to fake it just to get through something.
• While the choices I have made about my life may not be someone else's cup of tea (I've been admonished on more than one occasion regarding some of the extremes I apparently exhibit), they are MY CHOICES so FUCK OFF.

The thing about me is that I believe many people see me as primarily this athletic machine. But really it's all about keeping my MIND happy, hence the title of this blog.

Wishing everyone great mental health AND physical well being!

Rambling

I have heard that blogs are going out of fashion. Fuck that. I write because I find that when I go back and reread things that I had some clarity of thought at the time.

I had made my blog private because I thought that when I meet someone new that I didn't want them to Google me and find this blog and they go into the archives and see all these wacky pics of me and some of my prior ramblings. But you know what? That is who I am/was at the time, and I am OK with it. There is really nothing in this blog that is (pick one):

• illegal (I don't think so anyway)
• pornographic (that is a subjective statement)
• libelous 

Now, I know that there are some things I write that are inflammatory. But no more so than some of the stuff I see on social media.

Anyway, back to what I want to write about today...

I have heard in the past that the only thing anyone wants to read about on this blog is my triathlon exploits, so I shall basically stick to that with occasional sprinklings of other stuff.

I was depressed earlier this year. It got kicked off by the incredibly harsh winter here in Chicago area. I know that I experience some amount of SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder). In fact, I felt it yesterday. Monday I went for a swim (and for the first time tried something that I think might help me which was to wear a paddle only on my left hand since my left side still doesn't have as much "feel" for the water as my right and may actually be weaker), and was also supposed to run. But the week prior I was in a 3-day training class for work and couldn't work out much during it, so I had purposely stacked a lot of workouts over Friday-Sunday:

• Friday I swam 3100 and ran for 1:45
• Saturday I swam 2800, then ran :40, then rode 1:40, then ran :20, since I'm preparing for a duathlon on 9/21
• Sunday I rode about 3 hours and ran :20 off the bike

Now, if you have known me for over 3 years, the above looks like nothing compared to some of the shit I've done in the past. But here's the thing--I've learned how to manage my "total stress load" a bit better, and frankly, being in a class where I have to be all smiley and participatory wears the hell out of me, because I am intrinsically an introvert (I draw my energy from within and being with a lot of people exhausts me).


So while I swam pretty well on Monday (I am back to swimming 3x week and regaining some form and speed!), I found that I was still pretty shelled from the weekend and decided not to run. Of course, this created a mind fuck in the sense I wanted to "make up" the run, even though technically I didn't need to (I'm only training for a 1/2 marathon at this point, for fuck's sake!). Also, I was on the fucking Food Channel, even though lately I have been feeling like a total fatty.

I divert again. Remember those 13 years I spent doing Ironman-level training? I was so used to my ultra-lean self that it has been hard for me to accept a little more fat on my body. Although people are telling me I'm more muscular, which might be true since I've been the Queen of Squats for the last 2 years. In truth, I'm only 2 lbs. off my "Ironman weight," and it's all in my legs and butt.

One of the decisions (and in addition to SAD earlier this year, I decided I needed to completely change my life!) I had made earlier this year was to back off from long course triathlon. And I have. Why? Because I want there to be room in my life for romance, friends, family and a general buffer zone to account for unintentional stress.

While that was a logical decision, implementing it made me depressed, because for some reason, I didn't know what to do if I wasn't training for long course. Old habits die hard! Then I rediscovered the joy of shorter races, and found I still had some fitness. I have yet to get a 1st place in AG this year (4 2nd places), so that tells me I'm not where I want to be, but it's a start. I have done this mostly by biking less, which sucks. I FUCKING LOVE RIDING BIKES!!! But I am finding that 5-6 hours a week is still respectable.

Anyway, so I'm fat, I didn't run on Monday, I was depressed from March-June. I did go to a therapist, and she wanted me on meds. I tried some and decided I didn't want to be on that train. Mostly, I just needed time to realize that I was overloading myself with the desire to make huge life changes all at once (in addition to giving up long course triathlon, I wanted to sell my house and move and downsize and get rid of 1/2 my possessions), and wasn't cutting myself any slack. Not that I've ever been good at that!

One of my personal issues is an addiction to achievement. So when my job changed at work in April, I was thrown for an additional loop in terms of the depression, since I felt temporarily incapable of succeeding and believed the workload would get excessive. So I'm going to give up long course triathlon, sell my house, move, downsize, get rid of 1/2 my possessions and significantly change my job! No pressure! Fuck, I was really losing it. But the job thing actually helped because it caused me to focus on ONE THING and solve that problem (how I did so I will not write here), and then I was able to see that as an ACCOMPLISHMENT, which of course made me feel better about things, and once I realized I could still work and train a fair amount, I was able to see that I had overloaded myself, so I quit seeing the shrink and got on with things.

Another nice thing that helped me to be OK with no long course triathlon was being given the gift of being asked to coach a friend for a short while (or maybe it will turn into something more, who knows?). I truly do love sharing my knowledge of triathlon with anyone who wants it! And so I began this little adventure maybe 10 weeks ago, and got back onto Facebook and now here is my blog.

So you all (all 5 of you) reading this see that I am quite fallible and now I am able to be upfront about it. As for the long course triathlon, we will see how that pans out. There is still a part of me that would like to do Ultraman Hawaii since I am qualified for it. Maybe at age 60. Wouldn't that be a trip? I have tentatively agreed to do another Ironman in 2016. Or not. I do want to do a 1/2 NothingMan on Thanksgiving weekend.

Oh--about my right foot. I have a confirmed Morton's Neuroma, but it's not as bad as some people get. It only hurts at "some point" into "some runs." I also discovered that I am wearing the WRONG FUCKING SIZE RUN SHOES. Do people at running shoe stores not think to remeasure your feet when you are asking them how to fix problems? Oh well, I am figuring it out on my own. I got new custom orthotics that will help, will be changing shoe sizes again (larger size is not the answer--I need to go with wide width now), and we will see if that completely stops the foot pain. It won't FIX the neuroma, it will just help me manage it, which is all I can ask for. Then if I'm able to run 15 miles pain free, well...the next logical step would be...

OK so Monday I skipped my run. I did get it in yesterday, though, in 2 increments--:30 of really slow on my treadmill, then later I went outside for :20 hard effort followed by a 1:30 ride. I was still tired from the weekend festivities, but I needed to BE OUTSIDE since all I did on Monday was swim.

So through all this past 9 months I've learned I need to be more careful about SAD (maybe I need a light box), that I still love triathlon, that I need to workout a good amount for my own mental health (and that amount appears to be about 14 hours per week don't judge me!), that my life isn't so bad, that I can deal with this whole aging thing for now, and that I'm OK with who I am.

One of the themes of this blog is letting go of attachments. While trying to let go (or not) of an attachment to long course triathlon, I discovered that I have an attachment to achievement. Not necessarily of being #1 or some amount of something, just goal-->plan and work towards it-->achieve.  That one will be tough to break, and I may never succeed at it. Ha! I just figured out my own existential conundrum--trying to SUCCEED at being detached from SUCCESS!!!


I might not be Crackhead anymore, though. If I'm not, that's OK, and if I AM, that's OK, too!