Sorting Out A Rough Week

Well, I am sitting here on my day off, drinking coffee and waiting for my scheduled phone call to DW.  I posted mid-week about suddenly getting tired and skipping a workout.  I wish I could say that did the trick but I was totally wiped out for the rest of the week and in all, missed three workouts, though I put in at least one effort every day but Sunday (my scheduled day off).  I was totally wrecked all week at work and even though my workout efforts weren't terrible, my attitude about them was.  I was bitter and reluctant all week.

I lay in bed last night (something I get to do on Sunday and Monday nights only- the rest of the time it is during the day) and wracked my brain for the answer.  WHAT HAPPENED???  I felt as good as I have ever felt at the beginning of the week and work-wise, this was a very light week.  I have a lot of possibilities, but no answers.

*I started a strength training program which made me very sore early in the week, but by the time I fell apart I had recovered from that.  I trained just two days and it was after the second day, when I was much less sore that I ran out of gas.  I realize that I had an elevated need for recovery during this period, which is probably why I listed it first.

*I started working with a sports massage therapist who's technique shares a lot in common with rolfing, though admittedly, at a more patient pace.  Still, due to the light week at work, he was able to do some serious work on my shoulders, arm, and hand.  The injuries there are deep set and old.  He worked through a lot of tissue adhesions but it was the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

*I slept, but not enough, nor was the quality what I would have liked.  I don't think there was a day when I didn't have at least 5 or 6 hours of sleep, though I never got more than seven.  The difficulty lies in the fact that it was a series of naps.  Two hours here, three hours there.  I never felt fully rested and recharged.

*I was ever so slightly dehydrated all week.  I drank water, lots of it, but far too many times found myself at the dog park after a workout without my water bottle.  I forgot to bring water to work a couple of nights.  They were short nights (2-3 hours) but I still would normally have polished off a liter or more.  Work is one of the places I rehydrate, since it is difficult to do while working out or sleeping and there is little else in my day.  I think there is a timing issue here.  It's not that I didn't drink the water, but I would down a couple of big glasses after I was already in a little bit of a hole.

*My nutrition could have been better.  My timing here was also a little off.  I wouldn't bring a snack to work because the night was short and then later be really hungry and make poor choices.  Plus, the more tired and dehydrated I became, the more I craved sugar and overate.  Sugar consumption always replaces water for me and sets off horrible food cravings setting up a vicious cycle.  I also consumed a lot of salt.  As a person with low blood pressure, there is not the usual health concerns there but I have noticed that it makes me retain water which has a negative psychological impact and screws up my thirst signals.  I turned into an eating machine by the end of the week.

*It got hot.  I did two bike rides in the afternoon heat this week and even though it is February, that didn't stop South Florida's temps from soaring to nearly 90.  I have been working out almost exclusively at night and the weather during the day has been mild.  I don't know how much of a contributor this was but I find it suspect that when I hit that wall initially, it was less than an hour after one of those rides.

*Emotional stress.  I have had two weeks in a row where I have gone to great lengths to help people who I believed to be friends (one a long time, close friend) and I have been lied to and let down.  The situations put me in a compromised position professionally, and cost me money.  But honestly, for someone who's lifestyle imposes so much solitude, it was the betrayal that hurt so much.

By the end of the week, I was a mess, physically and emotionally.  As I lay there last night, honestly wishing I could relax enough to have a that good cry that felt stuck in my throat for several days, it dawned on me... Why didn't I call my coach? Why didn't my workout updates include an indication that ANYTHING was amiss?

I didn't call because I didn't have the answers.  It is one thing for me to call when I know what is happening.  I will seek advice on how to organize the solution when I have already figured out what needs to be done.  But to call in the state I was in... that would have been admitting to the vulnerability I felt all week.

I still don't know how to let people help me.  I will bitch about a problem, laugh about it, wax poetic about the solution to anyone that can't run away... but to call before I have the thing in my rear view, to truly reach out for help in the moment I needed it, that is something I don't know how to do.  Even now, I am procrastinating on making this phone call until I have my thoughts sorted.  I am cramming for a solution before the clock inevitably runs out and I have to make that call.

Honestly, that bell rang 25 minutes ago.  I guess I'd better get my game face on.