It’s gotten so bad that I almost started this post with the line:
“Webster’s Dictionary defines ‘threshold’ as, amongst other definitions, ‘the point at which a physiological or psychological effect begins to be produced.’”
But I haven’t quite hit that point yet.
A number of personal thresholds are being crossed by about me at the moment. After close to a year of trying to break through a weight barrier, I’ve crossed a different threshold, an opposite, upper tier that puts me thirty pounds over my goal weight. Part of this is due to a too-long period of binging indulgence in unhealthy, nutritionally suspect and fattening foods that were consumed to offer comfort in the face of adversity, stress, and failure. Coupled with all of that was the partial cause of that adversity, stress, and failure – a lingering back and hip injury that finally had me stop all running entirely. I have done little to nothing but wallow on the couch, a series of analgesics adhered to various points hoping to gain relief. And so while telling myself that the sloth was necessary to heal, I also told myself that gluttony provides the energy for the process… and a mental balm to boot.
In truth, it’s all just made me feel oh-so-worse. Today I hit a new low. After a restless night’s sleep that capped a day’s worth of nothingness, I awoke feeling worse than ever. Truly, I did noting yesterday, not even leaving my house. I feel awful, the junk food “comfort” providing a sense of physical and mental spirals.
Years ago I had taken almost six weeks off with an ankle injury that I feared would derail my running thereafter. I sought a Physical Therapist who offered much in the way of advice but little in the way of solution. It just took time.. and ultimately it came down to what my doctor told me at the beginning of seeking treatment: I could start running again based on my pain threshold. If I could endure the pain, I could run.
I’m aware that’s very reductive and probably not what she said; she probably said ‘rest it up and don’t run until you feel better.’ But what exactly does ‘feeling better’ even mean? What does that look like? Because right now, feeling like this, “better” would be an easy bar to reach. I wouldn’t feel ‘well’ or ‘healthy,’ but I could easily see ‘feeling better’ than this.
This is of course my roundabout way of saying (without saying for fear of tempting fate), ‘well, it can’t get much worse….”
I just cancelled my dinner plans for tonight as I can barely move. I’m supposed to fly to Seoul, South Korea, tomorrow. Everything is paid. I had been looking forward to it, to visiting and running in a place I’d never been before. But right not I’m trying to decide if it’s even worth going to the airport. I have to return my rental car at the very least tomorrow which means I’ll be at the airport and confronted with the choice of an uber home or a plane to Asia.
Everything seems pointless and hopeless. There’s a Rubicon crossed, a threshold to be sure… but I don’t know if it’s a “too late to go forward” or “too late to go back” Rubicon. There aren’t any signs here.
Like most men, I have a very low pain threshold. It’s a good thing I am not Arnold Schwarzenegger in “Junior” as I certainly couldn’t endure the pains of childbirth (to all the mothers out there, respect). But I also have a very low threshold for wallowing. If I don’t get out of this soon, I fear the next weight gain threshold will be crossed exponentially faster than this one. And emotionally I can’t seem to handle anything. A painful run, even one that may or may not destroy future runs, may be necessary if only to try and shake out of this funk and mood.
I long to run… but it hurts to even walk. I wish to race… but it is painful to even move.
I stand at the brink, the threshold to tomorrow. I have no good options and am not even sure what the lesser of two evils might be.
Damn.
Damn, damn, damn.
Hell.