Feeling Off In the Off Season

Have you ever said, “I feel gross”?

I said it to myself four nights ago, around 3 a.m., as I lay in bed with one hand pressed against my forehead and the other resting on my abdomen, mouth dry from wine-induced dehydration and belly bloated from eating a bunch of cashews and half a cookie after dinner. (It was just half, and cashews are good for you, I told myself to feel better.)

Last time, I blogged here about the off season. Now I’m writing to admit I’m struggling with an unsettled routine, poor sleep, and cold weather that makes going outside take extra effort. What’s more, about once a day, I feel upset and experience a gnawing sense of doom about the news as we collectively witness (if we care to pay attention) the degradation and perhaps slow death of our democracy and environment. Catching up on the news leaves me sad and feeling powerless, so I self-soothe. I fell back on some bad habits on many nights involving eating mindlessly and pouring an extra glass of wine, two habits that go hand in hand.

When I run, it feels laborious, in part due to the winter conditions that compel me to run with extra layers and traction devices. Mostly, however, running 7 miles feels like 14 because I’ve lost fitness and put on a little weight.

Objectively, I’m still in fine health and probably look fine too, and I’m still working and gaining satisfaction from my coaching business. The issue is: I “feel gross” frequently enough that I am compromising well-being, and I want to change my behavior.

I do not feel like the person I was 12 weeks ago, and I want to be that person again.

It seems so long ago, that week in late September when I raced and won the Grand to Grand Ultra, a seven-day, self-supported stage race. It hit me in bed that night that I want to rekindle my Grand to Grand self. What does that mean?

Feeling fantastic, first female, f***yeah! (Fun with alliteration.)

During that Grand to Grand Ultra week in the desert, I did the following:

– I ran long distances. A marathon or more each day plus one of the most challenging 50-milers I’ve encountered. Eliminating long runs during this off season isn’t feeling good; I think I need to go longer once a week as usual, but still keep my overall volume and intensity lower in advance of ramping up training this spring.

– I ate mindfully and minimally, and I did not feel the compulsion to drink alcohol at dinnertime to relax. My nightly dinner—a dehydrated camping meal in a bag—became something to treasure; I’d rehydrate it and savor each bite. The portion felt surprisingly satisfying. Second helpings and plate-picking weren’t options (because I had to carry all my food and gear on my back for the week), so I didn’t automatically crave more; I accepted that the portion was enough. Drinking wasn’t an option either, so I didn’t even think about a glass of wine or a beer.

– I disconnected from devices and felt liberated from the urge to check email or social media several times an hour. Back to nature, unburdened by anything that required plugging in, I engaged in a “digital detox” that allowed me to relax with free time, engaging in conversation with others or with hands-on chores, or simply resting and observing. My eyes and mind focused singularly and deeply on what was around me and on the task at hand. I want to regain that calm mindfulness and focus, free from distractions and the urge to always carry and check my phone.

– I felt motivated to do my best and compete, driven and enlivened by the other runners with whom I shared that journey. It’s not that I felt a punishing drive that I “had to” win; it’s that I wanted to keep up with others and play with passing them. I felt ambitious. I could have hiked so much more of that course and had an easier time as a mid-packer, but a spark reignited within me and challenged me to strive to be near the top. I experienced the best kind of competition: when the camaraderie of the race motivates us to work harder and achieve more than we might have expected or have done on our own. I look forward to feeling that again next year.

– I didn’t care how I looked. With no mirrors around, no makeup, no shower, and by necessity wearing the same clothing every day (because we had to carry all our clothing, along with everything else), I couldn’t do much with my looks. I certainly wasn’t thinking about the vertical scowl lines between my eyebrows or the age spot on my forehead, which are things I’ve worried about too much recently.

– I exercised self-compassion. I loved my body during the Grand to Grand week. That sounds weird to say, but I felt grateful for how my feet and legs carried me in spite of fatigue, and how my sore lower back held up with the weight of my pack. I hugged myself when I felt cold at night in a too-thin sleeping bag and promised myself I’d give my body TLC when the race was over. I want to love and accept rather than criticize myself this way again.

Now, I’m not saying I could do all of that every day in real life, and I don’t want to minimize the fatigue and significant challenges that were part of each stage in the Grand to Grand. But thinking about my behavior and mindset during the Grand to Grand gives me insight into good habits I can try to cultivate to feel better.

There’s one thing missing from the list of my Grand to Grand characteristics: sleep. I did not sleep well during the stage race due to sharing a tent, sleeping on the ground and being cold. For me, good sleep is the foundation for feeling good instead of gross. When I am sleep deprived, my mind is dull and my appetite spikes needlessly. I have had too many nights like the one above where I wake up in the middle of the night to pee and get water, and then I’m up, mind buzzing and catastrophizing, for at least 90 minutes, and if I sleep in the next morning, then the day feels shot because I’ve sacrificed the early-morning routine of reading and writing that starts my day off right.

Lying in bed three nights ago, I tapped out a note in the Notes section of my phone:

What I Want to Achieve and What Will Make Me Feel Better

– Eat and drink mindfully for satisfaction and wellness. Think choice over control: “I choose not to eat extra food or have another drink after dinner because I want to sleep well and feel good tomorrow.” At least once a day, eat a meal without distraction; eat slowly, appreciate taste and texture, tune into fullness cues.

– Read. Every morning. It’s the best thing ever. Keep your phone out of reach when you read.

– Write. At least 500 words a day. Be as disciplined with your writing as you are with your running.

– Exercise. You don’t have to run a ton now. But keep a routine. Try bedtime yoga as an alternative to after-dinner food and drink.

– Español. Don’t let days go by without studying Spanish. A little a day. It’s your hobby and makes your mind sharp. Quiero ser bilingue. Puedo hacerlo.

I put my phone down and fell back asleep, sleeping in past sunrise. I woke with a clearer head and the feeling of a fresh start.

There’s an upside to feeling gross and confronting why, and that is that it fuels motivation. These past three days, I managed to do all the things on the “What I Want to Achieve…” list above. I slept through the night and felt so much better. It’s amazing how success builds on success (the flip side to how feeling gross can lead to actions that make you feel grosser).

I’ll end with this photo taken recently of me with our family’s horse, Cobalt. I felt adrift in recent weeks partly because I lost the daily practice of taking care of Cobalt, ever since we transferred him to a boarding stable for winter in the lower-elevation town of Montrose more than an hour away. We can’t ride him around our house due to the snow and ice, and he’ll feel better in the milder climate until we bring him back in late spring. I didn’t expect to miss him so much, but I do; I miss the grounding routine of feeding, mucking, grooming and riding. I appreciate more fully how riding is my form of yoga—a way to move my body in a low-impact way that subtly and intentionally engages specific muscles and balance while being fully present in the moment. It’s also a chance to connect with a creature who accepts me without any judgment, and who responds positively to gentleness and consistent cues. He brings out the nicest, calmest side of me. It’s a delightfully simple, uncomplicated relationship that fills the empty-nest maternal void I feel from having my kids grown and independent.

Cobalt seems content hanging out in a pasture with a dozen other horses, munching on hay all day and frolicking with friends. I highly doubt he overthinks anything, loses sleep, worries about what others think of him, or ever feels gross. His wintertime off-season self is a little overweight, very dirty and shaggy with a thick coat. My most recent visit with him reminded me that horses are great teachers.