Alexandersmap

    Category: Health

    • Action Plans and Comfort Zones

      Don’t look now, but as I post this on February 9th, we’re almost 11% through the year. How are those New Year’s Resolutions looking? Yeah, I know what you mean. Action plans without execution soon fall away like so many broken dreams.

      I don’t make resolutions, I chip away at habit formation. I’m particularly locked in on writing every day, as quirky and all over the map as it might be for the reader. I’m a streaker, if you will, committing to not breaking streaks in the habits I want to have in my life. Writing, reading, learning a bit of a foreign language or two, getting a full night’s sleep and eating relatively well are consistently checked off on the streak list.

      But then there are the broken streaks: rowing and lifting every day, not drinking on weekdays, and some work productivity goals that pain my friend on sabbatical too much to mention. My action plan for each of these have all succumbed to the comfort zone. It’s so much easier to just make a coffee first thing in the morning and begin writing than it is to jump on the rowing ergometer and row for 10,000 meters. It’s so much more pleasant to have a glass of red wine with dinner than to drink yet another glass of water. Comfort trumps committed action when you haven’t established routine.

      So I’ve put the action plan aside in favor of the habit tracker. Each morning I have my reckoning, checking off the things I did the day before. And leaving a glaring void where the things I meant to do (or not do) missed a day. And then I try to avoid having two of those voids in a row. Sometimes it works, sometimes I go a long, long way between check marks.

      Ultimately, life is meant to be lived to our fullest extent possible. But we live in a pay me now, pay me later reality. The bad habits add up, just as the good habits do. Decide what to be and go be it. But don’t lie to yourself.

      I still make action plans, but now I try to identify the key daily steps that lead to success down the road. Sometimes I succeed, often I don’t. But I just keep trying to check the box. After all, there’s a certain comfort in established habits too.

    • Finding Balance in a Hot Tub in a Blizzard

      The forecast called for a blizzard, and officially it met the requirements to be called one in some places. Not so much where I call home. But a significant storm nonetheless. A storm you take seriously. A storm you hunker down in. A storm in which an adventurous spirit might look out at the hot tub and think to oneself, “I’m going in, now”. And fancying myself so, I changed into a bathing suit, slipped on my adidas slides, a cap and the warmest shirt I own and headed out into the swirl.

      Taking a broom with me, I swept a path through the 4 inches of light accumulation to the tub, swept off the cover, opened the tub and took a deep breath. Off came the warm shirt and the tickle of snow landing on my back greeted me immediately. Stepping out of the slides into the 39 degree Celsius/103 degree Fahrenheit water, I felt the sting of fast-frozen toes meeting heat. I quickly brought my other foot in for the party and dropped down to chin level to warm myself.

      Immersing yourself in hot tubs (or hot springs) is supposed to improve your health in several ways. First, it puts you in a state of weightlessness, easing stress on your joints and relaxing muscles. But it also improves cardiovascular health and helps lower your blood pressure. The jets in a hot tub offer some massage for those sore muscles. But mostly a hot tub draws the stress out of you and plunges you into a relaxed state.

      That state change is most obvious when you’re sitting in hot swirling water in a snowstorm, with the steam rising up to meet the snow as it swirled down to reunite with the water. That’s some extreme swirling, to be sure, and with your head places squarely on the line between chaos and order, Yin and Yang, you have a front row seat for the dance. Too much in either direction and you’ll freeze or drown. Choices. It was life, amplified, in the splurgy decadence of a hot tub in a blizzard.

      The fine snow accumulated all around me, coating all cool surfaces. I felt it landing on my exposed skin, sliding down to greet the hot water or melting in surrender to the warmth of my body. But the snowy assault kept on relentlessly. My knit cap, my eyelashes and nose collected snow. The line between chaos and order is very thin in such conditions, and I delighted in the opportunity to be right there. Nothing else mattered in that moment.

      But all good things must end, and at some point you’ve got to brace yourself for the retreat from the hot tub through the swirling snow to the warm house. This is best done with purpose, and I reached up and shook off a towel, quickly stood and wrapped my shoulders and reached for my wool shirt, shook that off too and replaced the towel with the cold shirt as I got up. I offered the adidas a dip in hot water to clean off the snow and slipped them on.

      It was all a choreographed dance on the edge of chaos, and I loved it without lingering. Buttoning up the hot tub and walking through the accumulation was my penance paid for the indulgence. Still radiating heat, I shuffled back to reality while scheming a return.

    • No Time for Tired

      Mais où sont les neiges d’antan! (Oh, where are the snows of yesteryear!)
      – François Villon, Ballade des dames du temps jadis

      We’re all a bit tired, aren’t we? Tired of the pandemic, tired of political deviants and extremists, tired of people not caring about the environment or really anything but themselves. Tired of things the way they are now. Tired that New Year’s Eve plans were scrapped because Christmas turned into a super spreader event, with half the vaccinated family getting COVID. You think maybe that booster will put you over the top and find your trail leg caught the hurdle.

      Villon was a rogue. He spent time in prison, and spent time writing poetry. He’s a complicated footnote in history. This poem, reflecting on the great women of the past during his time, lives on centuries after he too passed like the snows of yesteryear. And the analogy reminds us we too must pass from this moment. Our time here is short and not meant to be devoid of suffering and the occasional inconvenience.

      All we once knew has changed, all we know now will change again. Tomorrow, should we indulge in the folly of being there for it, will bring more change still. This is the way. Tired doesn’t matter. Billions of people had it worse than we do, right now, right here. Did you do a face plant on this hurdle? No? Then get over the next one. For the universe moves on with or without you. There’s no time for tired. We aren’t done with this race just yet.

    • Water and Wine, Experience and Emotion

      “The best wine is the oldest, the best water the newest.’ Water is experience, immediate sensation, and wine is emotion, and it is with the intellect, as distinguished from imagination, that we enlarge the bounds of experience and separate it from all but itself, from illusion, from memory, and create among other things science and good journalism. Emotion, on the other hand, grows intoxicating and delightful after it has been enriched with the memory of old emotions, with all the uncounted flavours of old experience, and it is necessarily an antiquity of thought, emotions that have been deepened by the experiences of many men of genius, that distinguishes the cultivated man.” – W.B. Yeats

      “In vino veritas, in aqua sanitas” (In wine there is truth, in water health)

      Water is best when it’s moving. There’s a reason we seek out ocean swells and waterfalls. It taps into out desire for constant change, for movement and action. Stagnant water is usually associated with contamination and sickness. Moving water is associated with vibrancy and health. We seek the fresh and new in our lives for it is life itself.

      Wine is no good at the moment it’s poured into the cask. It must age and mature, and rise to meet its potential depth of flavor. The French call this process élevage, the progression of wine between fermentation and bottling. The term élevage also means procreation. It’s clear the French saw the connection between aging wine and human life.

      Water as experience, wine as emotion. A great life is a proper mix of experience and emotion, new and old. With that in mind, shouldn’t we seek out new experiences? Shouldn’t we mine our deepest thoughts and emotions and create something from it? We need both in our lives, don’t we? Experience to encounter the world, to wrestle with it in real time and find our place in it. Emotion to reflect on what we’ve seen and grow, and ultimately realize our potential through maturity and insight.

      Turning to the Latin phrase, we see that there’s a balance between the two. To be healthy (sanus) we must refresh our bodies with nutrition and hydration and action. To be wise (sapiens), we must learn from this experience, meditate on it and grow. Balancing the two is the key to a vibrant, fulfilling life.

      Slàinte Mhath!

    • Rest and Revovery

      “Rest is not death; it is life, and all life bears fruit.” – A.G. Sertillanges

      I worked my way back to the office to finish some work after dinner. There’s a lot to do lately. And it calls at me, nagging for more time. But getting to my desk, my chair was occupied by a cat with a different idea of how to live. Taking the hint, I decided to leave the work for another day and sit down to listen to music instead… and promptly fell asleep myself.

      The end of the year brings a certain level of chaotic completion with it. Things come together in the end, or they don’t and slip into the next year. What are we to do about it but our best?

      Proper rest is the key. Sleep, recover, begin again. The cat knows this, and deep down I do too.

    • The Booster Experience

      With all the variants dancing about, I was finally able to get my booster shot yesterday. For the record, it was the mRNA COVID-19 vaccine (Pfizer-BioNTech). And just like with the second shot, my body reacted to it with a wave of chills hours afterwards. For the second dose, it was at the twenty hour mark. For this one, it caught up to me at fifteen hours. For about an hour I shook so hard I had to put a towel in my mouth so I wouldn’t bite my tongue. Fun! But in both cases, I felt that if this was what the vaccine does to me I’m grateful I didn’t get the virus. The wave eventually passes. A bit if discomfort is the price of admission for the new normal.

      Everyone reacts differently, of course, and some people get no symptoms at all. I rarely get sick, so it was interesting to get this wave of feverish chills with the second two doses. But there’s another twist to this story–I got the flu shot at the same time. Is that reckless or efficient? Who knows, but my body informed me that I was ambitious.

      If this all sounds like a negative stance on the vaccine, well, that’s not the case at all. Just one person’s experience with the three doses of Pfizer. I’d do it all again if it turns out we’ll require a fourth dose someday. But I sure hope that’s not the case.

      With all that said, get your booster. We like you too much for you to get sick now. After all we’ve been through together.

    • Let Me Live Until I Die

      “Lord, let me live until I die.” – Will Rogers

      This is the kind of daily prayer or affirmation I can get behind. Said daily as I open my eyes to a new day. Let me live until I die is a bold stake in the ground to make the most of every moment. And shouldn’t we celebrate the possibility of the new day? What’s the alternative, to dread the commute to work, or the work itself, or what we come home to afterwards? To distract your life with media and alcohol and empty calories? No, thank you! Let me live until I die.

      It’s easy to slip into the dark melancholy of the world. It’s easier to slip than it is to climb. But slipping only leads you to new lows. Far better to climb, as tough as it might seem, to reach new heights and see new vistas. To leap out of bed to see what we might accomplish in this new day seems a far more interesting way to wake up to the world than to hit the snooze button and hide under your pillow.

      Life isn’t easy, we all know that. But the world bows to those who climb to the top, look around and light the way for the rest to see. To be a beacon requires energy and an unquenchable desire to burn brightly. You can’t burn brightly if you’re drowning in misery. Get up and get out there, where the oxygen is. Be fit and passionate and embrace life in a full bear hug.

      To live is to move, to embrace, to laugh, to love, to explore, to learn, to dance, to take a chance and to grow. Get out into the world and make the most of living while we can. I’ll see you out there.

    • The Random Gift of Injury

      Stoicism is accepting whatever the world throws at you. Not to be bullied by the universe, but to accept fate and manage the moment. This, of course, is an oversimplification, but for our purposes we’ll run with this definition. There are bookshelves full of stoic philosophy at the ready should you wish to dive deeper.

      With this in mind, what were the odds that I’d bruise my right heel stepping on a small log tossed underfoot by a rogue wave I was running to avoid on a beach in Marin, California on the one morning I happened to be walking in that place in my lifetime? Not quite as random as hitting the birth lottery, but pretty damned remote. One step of thousands of steps, landing on the exact spot to create a bruise that’s irritated me for a couple of weeks now.

      Maybe irritate is the wrong word. Maybe fascinate is better, because of the randomness of that bruise. Semantics aside, it’s a classic test of stoicism, one I ought to embrace for the gift it is. A bit of pain in the heel is a small tradeoff for the celebration of random events that brought us together. And sure, it could have been a lot worse. Rogue waves aren’t to be trifled with.

      Accepting whatever is thrown at you doesn’t mean you don’t deal with the problem at hand. You don’t have to like getting hurt. To do so would be a clear signal of another problem in your life. A bit of motrin, some heel inserts, and other efforts to heal the heel are ongoing. Some long walks I’d planned have been postponed. To press on would aggravate the injury, extending it, and from a stoic point of view, it would mean not accepting this fate.

      Who am I to ignore this random gift?

    • Sick Days

      Remember celebrating sick days when you were younger? I remember them well. Stay home from school! Freedom! Sort of…. But somewhere along the way I became frustrated by the loss of momentum a sick day represents. If we only have so much tome in life, why waste it sick?

      This is the place where adulthood kicks in. Responsibility and reliability are key metrics on the career path. Doing what must be done seems honorable and right. But sometimes your body has other plans for you. We must listen.

      We didn’t get things like stomach bugs and colds during lockdown. When these things happen now it seems an unpleasant novelty. Not so much to be experienced but managed. Sick days are different now. There’s more at stake. So use them wisely.

      It seems today is a sick day.

    • A Sparkplug for the Brain in Five Songs

      If someday my mind succumbs to the debilitating fog of dementia that robs my father and so many others of their familiarity and wit, put noise-cancelling headphones over my ears, turn up the volume and play the electric guitar anthems of my youth. I don’t know nearly enough about reversing the downward slide of dementia, but I do know that music seems to help. My Dad might not remember my name, but he knows the words to his favorite country music. There’s magic in music, and it seems to remain a gift for us to the end of our days.

      I don’t know what my own future will bring, but I eat my blueberries and leafy greens and stay hydrated in hopes of keeping the pipes clean. They say a heart-healthy diet and a brain-healthy diet are the same, which seems to offer a clear path for proactive nutrition. But we never know, do we?

      I do know that nothing drew me out of my awkward teenage shell like the guitar work of the late 1970’s and early 1980’s rock music. And, just maybe, that might work again should I someday need a sparkplug for the brain. May it never be needed but as a nice throwback jolt of energy and a reminder of a time when my dad knew my name and would yell it to have me turn down the music:

      Surrender – Cheap Trick
      I can still remember listening to this song in a friend’s basement, along with, funny enough, his Kiss records.

      Unchained – Van Halen
      This performance is big, brash Van Halen at their raunchiest, and rocking the house.

      Rock You Like a Hurricane – The Scorpions
      German rock and roll that must be turned up extra loud.

      Roll With The Changes – REO Speedwagon
      One of those songs you can’t help but turn up and speed up to.

      Gloria – U2
      The band, and the performance, that stirred my Celtic soul and changed my perspective on music forever. U2 became and remains to this day my virtual house band.