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Hating the mind-body connection
Jun. 12th, 2010 12:06 pmAwesome. Nothing like rounding out a week at work by staying up coding until 11:30 on a Friday.
One other thing about this last week is that I only worked out twice (and one of those was just cardio on the elliptical at home). Monday I rested on purpose (except for some chin-ups with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rifmeister), Wednesday was supposed to be a human tower rehearsal but it got rained out, and Friday a work-emergency arose. Tuesday, which was my birthday, was the only day I was happy about: my back has been hurt but slowly getting better, and on Tuesday I was able to do a couple of walkovers for the first time in ~4 weeks.
Extra rest over the last few weeks has been appropriate enough in terms of letting my back get better, which it is doing.
Well, I KNOW there's a correlation between workouts and sanity, and I've known that for at least 13 years now, so maybe it's obvious that I was doomed to go crazy this month and this last week. That's fine as far as it goes... I know that a lot of my high-level thoughts and moods are largely rationalized to make sense of what my brain chemicals and cells are telling me about my current state. Even so, why am I so close to the edge? I'd like to be in a solid enough emotional state that if I, say, broke my foot and couldn't do much for a while, I wouldn't necessarily wind up throwing things through the windows, hearing voices or quitting my job. It strikes me that even though I work with my brain and fingers, at the moment I'm almost as affected by injury as a dancer or acrobat would be. (At least, a good fraction of that.)
Vulnerability! We hates it.
(Postscript: this morning I walked to the Goodwill with some stuff I felt sentimental about and other stuff I didn't -- goodbye, uncleanable waffle maker, next time I'm getting one with removable plates! goodbye, small vases from my wedding! -- and then I went to advanced yoga for 90 delicious minutes, and now I'm going to do pullups. Guess what? I feel just fine.)
One other thing about this last week is that I only worked out twice (and one of those was just cardio on the elliptical at home). Monday I rested on purpose (except for some chin-ups with
rifmeister), Wednesday was supposed to be a human tower rehearsal but it got rained out, and Friday a work-emergency arose. Tuesday, which was my birthday, was the only day I was happy about: my back has been hurt but slowly getting better, and on Tuesday I was able to do a couple of walkovers for the first time in ~4 weeks.Extra rest over the last few weeks has been appropriate enough in terms of letting my back get better, which it is doing.
Well, I KNOW there's a correlation between workouts and sanity, and I've known that for at least 13 years now, so maybe it's obvious that I was doomed to go crazy this month and this last week. That's fine as far as it goes... I know that a lot of my high-level thoughts and moods are largely rationalized to make sense of what my brain chemicals and cells are telling me about my current state. Even so, why am I so close to the edge? I'd like to be in a solid enough emotional state that if I, say, broke my foot and couldn't do much for a while, I wouldn't necessarily wind up throwing things through the windows, hearing voices or quitting my job. It strikes me that even though I work with my brain and fingers, at the moment I'm almost as affected by injury as a dancer or acrobat would be. (At least, a good fraction of that.)
Vulnerability! We hates it.
(Postscript: this morning I walked to the Goodwill with some stuff I felt sentimental about and other stuff I didn't -- goodbye, uncleanable waffle maker, next time I'm getting one with removable plates! goodbye, small vases from my wedding! -- and then I went to advanced yoga for 90 delicious minutes, and now I'm going to do pullups. Guess what? I feel just fine.)
