Body

Bryan really enjoyed teaching spin classes. He spoke of that time of his life with great fondness. He brought novices into a world of cycling and prepared them to achieve the one-day Seattle to Portland (STP) ride. I still meet new people who tell me about his classes. Bryan would talk about how important it is to get out of your head and into your body. He would talk about measuring exertion levels. Are you at a 4 or an 8? Can you talk easily or do you have to take deep breaths between words? He talked about how physical activity allows for the quelling of anxiety and the possibiity to reach “flow.” His preferred method–snow skiing. But he could easily find those places in running, cycling, sailing. It helped him achieve tremendous balance because he was a cerebral fellow too, endlessly curious, analytical, seeking.

When one’s world is in crisis, it’s easy for it to shrink. Maybe it does so by necessity. Ours certainly did. When Bryan was diagnosed with his second form of cancer–glioblastoma to be specific, our world shrunk to our house and the cancer center primarily. My world shrunk to Bryan’s care and occasional communication, and visits from our nearest and dearest. Diet, exercise, a life of the mind, robust creativity, all drifted away while I was hyperfocused. I wouldn’t change that. I wouldn’t know how to if I were placed in the same scenario knowing all I do now. The world shrinks and you adapt.

Now, nearly two years from his initial GBM diagnosis, my world has begun to expand again and part of that is trying to find that balance between the body and the brain. One of the consequences of high stress, poor diet (read too much sugar in its various forms), bad sleep, is high cortisol levels. My fight or flight had been on high ping for a long time. Upon recommendation from my sister, a healthcare professional, I began taking a supplement for adrenal health at the beginning of this year. (Your mileage may vary. This isn’t a medical journal. I’m not a doctor. Please don’t take something terrible then sue me…mmmkay?) For me, it has been really helpful. Combining that with increased activity, namely walking at Bennington and Mill Creek, has meant that I’m feeling more of that balance and getting healthier in the process.

In early-to-mid June I also got Invisalign; it’s the braces alternative for teeth-straightening. I’m to wear them on average about 20-22 hours a day. The process of taking them in and out is a pain. The nubbies they’ve glued to my teeth to help with the positioning are also incredibly irritating when the trays are out. They catch food, the inside of my cheeks, my tongue. Eating isn’t terribly enjoyable. A consequence of that is that I’ve lost weight. Two weeks ago today, I started a gym membership in order to build a foundation for the next Walla Walla winter. I’m tired of white-knuckling it when it’s gray and cold. I want to be mentally strong to navigate the inversions and less light. Well, a lack of calories combined with increased exertion and periodic migraines from the Invisalign mean that while I’m doing my damnedest to find that mind-body balance, I’m adding new variables to the field and having a hard time accommodating them. This has resulted in, you guessed it, higher anxiety and mood instability. A loving yet brief lecture from my bestie, a concurring opinion from my sister, helped remind me that I need to account for those new variables. Hello protein shake, my new friend.

I’ve used the ocean metaphor a lot because I think the nature of changing seas is apropos. Trimming sails, changing course, adapting to the wind and waves is pretty much what navigating life is like. The “there, I’ve made it” is such a pile of hogwash. Today, I saw my women’s health nurse practictioner for THAT visit. All is well and she gave me helpful tips and frankly just listened. These changing waters will continue with age should I be so lucky to get to.