So I finally finished the book Run Towards the Danger this morning and it has me thinking all kinds of things, but more importantly, feeling hopeful.
I’ve been going to the gym pretty steadily for the past week and a half, doing the sub-symptom threshold cardio and trying to keep my heartrate between 80 and 90 (around 50% MHR for me). My heartrate usually tends to be on the high side, I work on regulating it through slowing down, breathing exercises, etc. (I’ve found gazing at the potted plants helps). It’s pretty boring, but I do my best.
I will also admit I have slacked off on the shoulder physio, because doing that consistently for a couple of days will give me a day of headache, so I have to rest to recover.
In the book, the expert Sarah Polley sees insists, just like the title, she needs to “Run towards the danger.” Do the stuff that makes her brain hurt. And when the symptoms come, instead of resting, exercising (she has a routine of fast-paced vestibular exercises to do).
I sadly do not have thousands of dollars to go to Pittsburgh to visit this clinic, but I want to try my own little experiment. In a low-risk way (not in a way where I risk falling and hitting my head again).
Amping up my cardio (while staying on the stationary bike, no chance of falling). And doing cardio when I feel symptoms coming on, and also talking myself through my symptoms.
One thing that happens to me when I’m experiencing cognitive stress or visual stress is that I feel a wave of heat wash over me. I’ve taken that as a signal to stop what I’m doing—finish my session with my SAD therapy lamp for example. Today I felt that rush of heat on the bike at the gym, but instead of stopping or slowing down, I just said, “This is a normal response,” and kept going. It went away.
After getting home, when I sat down to write this, I felt a headache starting. Instead of, “Oh no, a headache,” I said, “That’s just my brain fixing itself,” and the pain dissipated. Placebo effect? Maybe? Probably? Who cares, I don’t have a headache.
One of the things she mentions in the book is she started saying yes to all of the social events she had been avoiding. Man, I would very much like to get back to socialising. But I want to be mindful about how I do all this stuff, and not just knock myself out and set myself up for regression. I do have a number of things planned for January—things I planned before my accident, mostly, and a few I planned figuring, “Surely, I’ll be better by then”—so my goal for now is not to plan more, but to not need to cancel anything.
Part of me wants to set a crazy goal, like running a marathon this fall (literally running towards to the danger). I don’t know about that. But maybe. We talked about getting a team going to fundraise for the theatre I’m on the board of, so maybe?? Is that nuts?
I guess the first step is to see how I do tomorrow.
For now, I’m going to try going to the grocery store—an overstimulating place I’ve avoided—since my kid is here with me to support if I need it. Tomorrow he goes back to university, and I am intending to take the train with him. Last time I did a day trip to Waterloo, it knocked me out and I needed to rest a few days to recover. What if this time, instead of resting to recover, I stick to my cardio routine? We shall see…
