Merde!

After last night's post, I spent the next several hours researching (and crying, because I didn't like what I learned). There is not a definitive medical test to determine whether I have or have not been overtraining, but as much as I hate to admit it, that is unquestionably what's been going on. I was really bummed to learn that the several weeks I've suspected and tried to ignore (push through the pain, pound Aleve & Flexaril, deny, deny, deny) it has pushed my body into a fairly miserable and dangerous place and will require more time off than I would have had I listened and backed off right when it started.  Damn.

This led to a completely sleepless night,  with the exception of a very brief nap that resulted in a dream that I fell asleep while in the middle of lecturing in my Java class, woke up (in the dream) horrified and embarrassed, and then proceeded to keep answering questions on my way to the bathroom, which ended up with me crapping my pants. It was a horrifying short dream, and that ended my sleep.  I've had a hard time sleeping well for a few weeks, because of increasing pervasive body pain that has made it impossible for me to get/stay comfortable. Last night, the pain was there, but my sleep problem was due to freaking out over the forced non-workout torture that I have to go through.

I've gone through the stages of grief several times over.  I briefly reach acceptance, and then somehow come back around and convince myself that maybe, just maybe I was wrong, and if I just keep pushing things everything will improve. I dally with that thought for a while until I try to lift my arms overhead or take a step and experience the deep profound pain that has nothing to do with the awesome muscle-building pain I've grown to enjoy. Then I start the phases again.  Weeping, anger and hostility toward my body for being a betraying wuss, whining (it's not faaaaiir--other people can work out without having to take time off), bargaining (if I just sneak in a couple of five-minute finishers, throughout the day, maybe my body won't "notice") and depression/mourning. I realized this morning while explaining to L that she would have to work out with her dad for the next week, because I have to take off. 

I can also see that this is a typical response to someone whose addiction has been taken away.  I am addicted to water. I am addicted to working out.  I have been addicted to caffeine off and on throughout the years. Being addicted to "positive" things like exercise can be very positive and healthy, but the problem occurs if the addiction controls me, rather than me controlling it. Nothing would make me stop except the threat of permanent damage that would result in a permanent break rather than this ugly, temporary break. I'm so repulsed by addiction/addicts that it disgusts and embarrasses me to accept this, but it's true.  I plan to retain my addictions to working out as well as drinking copious amounts of ice water, but I will have to have the strength to stick with this rest period to get back to my healthy addictions. This feels horrible, but I am trying to view this as a challenge to my self-discipline. I can allow myself to retain my addictions only if I can maintain control over them when needed. This might be my toughest test of strength yet.


So apparently I'm not a special snowflake, and this is a pretty typical reaction for people who end up in this situation. I'm guessing that those of us who overtrain have some similar personality traits, and it's quite common that people try to ignore, deny, push through--anything but give up. 

The first hurdle for me will be to get through a one-week break. Every time I contemplate (or type) that my chest constricts and I feel like life isn't worth living. This is really hard. 

As I try to analyze the various emotions behind my panic, the first and foremost is simply that I'm losing my favorite activity in my day. That 45 minutes a day is MY time, and I look forward to it from the time I get up until my after-dinner workout.  One of my first thoughts in the morning is which workout is scheduled for the day. I slog through a day of unpleasant tasks/chores, all done for others, and my reward at the end of the day is that 45 minutes of pure joy. That's gone. For a week. I have nothing to look forward to after putting in a hard day's work.

Next is the realization that a post-menopausal woman in her mid 40s is by nature, a muscle atrophying, fat-storing machine. Every day that I take off is hard-fought conditioning that will be lost, and I will have to fight to get it back again. I do not like to lose ground or even stagnate. If I'm not progressing, I'm not happy, and this is why I tend to push the workouts so hard.  I'm fighting nature and am determined to win.


Next is the problem of how to eat. I eat a lot. I eat to fuel extremely intense daily workouts and actually struggle to eat enough to stay properly fueled during my busy work days.  I have no idea how much to eat without that workout.  I will miss eating as much as I want. I've worked really hard to get down to 15% body fat, and I don't want that number to creep up while I'm on this forced break.

The tyrannical drill sergeant that occupies my brain also yells very unpleasant things at me all of the time, particularly if I'm taking an off day or doing a lighter workout ("Lazy slacker--get moving; you don't even deserve to eat if that's all the effort you put into it."), so it becomes pretty relentless on the Asylum weeks when I take two days off. A whole week of it is not going to be fun. 

I'm still adjusting to the concept of the week off, though I am very aware that it may not be enough time.  I'm kicking myself for not catching it right away when a week would almost certainly have been enough.  At this point, I'm prepared to endure a week, and then I will try again and re-evaluate. Even after I return (whether after a week or longer), I will have to be a bit more moderate, at least for a while.  I don't like this idea either, because in my brain moderation==half assing things. I'll have to tackle that when I get to that point, though, because right now I have what looks like an insurmountable week to get through.


When I started this fitness journey a little over two years ago, I never, ever would have anticipated anything like this occurring in my life.  Had someone told me this would happen, I would have laughed aloud, but here I am. Funny after all these years that my own brain manages to shock and surprise me.

These pictures are from the last catnip party.

Taxes, Contractors, and Chaos

The title should give a pretty good indication as to how unpleasant life has been lately. I have reached my tolerance limits with the chaotic home repair situation. I'm so glad that Mark is much better at handling things like this than I am. At this moment, the contents of our first-floor bathroom (including toilet, sink, vanity, etc.) are in our dining room.  The entire floor is ripped out of the bathroom, so there's a big gaping hole there and it's quite cold. So far the plumber has made the necessary repairs using pipes that won't freeze, the insulation guys have done their thing and assure us that everything is so well insulated that it will never freeze again, the electrician has repaired the wires that were cut when the floor was removed, and now they will start putting the floor in and the bathroom back together, then the basement ceiling/wall can be repaired.  Then we can start replacing the items/furniture destroyed in the flood and get our family room and office back together.  I'm thinking we should be back to normal in 2-3 more weeks.

When all the pipes were ripped out, we found that there were a total of six burst pipes. We knew there were at least three (because of the three separate incidents in three days), but were fairly surprised to see six!

The biggest challenge and stressor is keeping the animals safely contained.  The cats have had the worst of it.  They had to remove the bathroom door, and with no floor, the cats could get back there and disappear into the walls or under the floors. With the contractors and all of their equipment coming in and out, that also presents a danger in cats getting hurt and/or escaping. While the contractors are here, they have to be locked in the various bedrooms, which makes them VERY unhappy.  It is quite challenging to track them all down in the morning, make sure they are in rooms with friends (there are a few sworn enemies who cannot be put in a room together), and get them all stuffed in there without the others escaping. We have to make sure someone is here at all times to ensure their safety.  When the contractors are not here, they are allowed free reign again, but that back entryway is only blocked off by plastic and gates, so we have to be here to make sure they don't find a way into the danger zone.  

The loud noises, vibrations, and smells are stressful and unpleasant for Mark and I.  Given that the animals hear and smell much better than we do, we know that it's definitely taking a toll on them. I feel tremendously guilty for putting them through all of this, but there really isn't any alternative.

The poor cats have also temporarily lost access to their outdoor enclosure, because we had to move it to allow access to a crawl space that their enclosure was blocking.  They are finished with that area now, so as soon as we can get some muscle to come help, we can get the enclosure back in place. The cats will be so happy to have access to their full territory again.  I feel so bad for them, because they don't understand any of this mess--just that the quality of life has diminished.  Their lives should be completely back to normal by next week.

Taxes are done, but what is normally a fairly unpleasant task turned into a nightmare this year due to a bug in this year's version of Turbo Tax.  It was an ugly bug and their tech support left much to be desired.  It took me almost five hours to figure out and fix the problems that this bug created. Finally, after several days of posts by angry users, TT says they are working on a fix and will let people know when it's resolved.  Lovely. It is shockingly unprofessional to have such an amateur-level bug in a production release of software that is dealing with such sensitive and important data.  I have used TT most of my adult life, but I will definitely be looking for different options next year. This was a pretty egregious error, and clearly their quality assurance process was either omitted or rushed through.  I don't feel inclined to trust them with something as important as tax data with such inadequate testing.  I feel pretty stressed about taxes this year. I've never questioned their accuracy before, but I'm terrified that somehow I will end up having to redo them or pay some kind of fine. UGH!  As if taxes aren't bad enough on their own!

I am struggling with some issues with my work outs, and this is one of those times that I could really use a community of experts, but I don't have any. I enjoy working out more than just about anything--it's probably tied with writing code as my favorite way to pass time.  I've noticed, though, the last couple of weeks, that I'm hitting walls. Not only am I not progressing, but have actually been struggling with workouts that I could normally do without much effort. In a couple of cases I've had to lower my weight, and that's just horrifying. Much to my dismay, my extensive research indicates that I have probably over trained.  I would so much rather have found that I need to double or triple my workout time/intensity than I need to back off a bit.  

Because I hate that answer, I want to seek expert advice. There is a chance that I'm wrong, and I'd really hate to back off if it's not absolutely vital. I'm not sure where to start in finding an expert who can honestly evaluate the situation.  It seems absurd that a healthy, fit, robust person should be able to maintain a 6-day a week, 45-minute per day workout schedule. This is not excessive. I'm so incredibly frustrated by this!  I even tried to compromise over the last month by dropping down to 5-days/week on my Asylum weeks (every other week), but I noticed tonight it was worse than ever. I really struggled with what is normally one of my easier workouts. What I haven't figured out is (if I do indeed need to back off a bit) exactly how much and for how long. My mental health and happiness really depend on not just working out but on very intense working out. I really don't enjoy things if I can't do them at full intensity.  I think at this point, I may have to go to an MD, because I know my brain, and it will question and not accept anyone who tells me I've over trained unless I see scientific evidence. Ha! So glad I "talked through this!"  Now I need to go do some research to find out there are any tests that can definitely determine this...

This was absolutely not the post I intended to write. I guess I needed to do a little venting/whining.  I'm not adding pictures of my chaotic home repair mess, my taxes, or me working out, instead, a couple of pics of some of L's digital art.

Poppy & Family

Poppy turned two at the end of last October. Up until Hurley (Poppy's mommy) died a couple of months ago, the family of three was inseparable.  They hung out together, ate together, and as HurleyBird continued laying her (infertile) eggs, the entire family of three took turns on sitting duty and protection detail.  Poppy enacted the roles with as much dedication as her parents.  The family of three interacted with and had friendships with the other birds and animals in the room, including Hurley's sister Hazel, but they were definitely a unit.  When Hurley died, we were all very sad.  Poppy and Darwin (daddy) went through a very obvious quiet time of mourning.  They remained very much a team through that process.  Losing Hurley was a real tragedy for all of us.

After their mourning period started to subside, I noticed that Hazel (Hurley's sister) seemed to have stepped into the family unit.  This intrigued me.  Even more intriguing, Hazel and Darwin were not courting/mating or indicating in any other way that they were pairing up.  Hazel and Poppy did not either.  Nobody is courting or mating.  They simply reformed their family unit with the aunt stepping into the mom's role.  They have formed a definite family of three.  

Hazel on sitting duty

Hazel continues to lay infertile eggs, which are now a family project.  Darwin and Poppy have contributed equally to sitting and protecting duties, just as they did for Hurley.  I am a little surprised by this behavior but find it so interesting to watch.  Initially Hazel moved in to Hurley's laying spot (the bottom corner of the same cage Poppy was hatched in).  They cared for her first two eggs in there for almost two months.  One morning last weekend, I went in to find that the family had moved into one of the guinea pigs' hidey boxes on the floor.  The whole family moved and resumed their egg protection duties in that location.  Poppy is the most militant protector and if one of the guinea pigs or rabbits gets to close to the entrance of their box, Poppy runs right up to the with her wings spread, beak open, trying to look absolutely terrifying. The guinea pigs and rabbits remain unimpressed, giving a glance and apparently deciding it's not worth worrying about, then resuming their hay munching.  I laugh so hard when I see her trying to be ferocious to the mammals who don't care.

Poppy, having been raised in this environment and spoiled and coddled by her cockatiel and human parents, has some massive self-confidence and quite a little attitude. She really thinks she is the center of the universe. She shoves into whichever feeding station she would like with no regard for the birds she is shoving out of the way. She will stand on top of her parents/aunt even though she's the same size. We all adore her, but she is a bit of a spoiled brat. She's not mean. She doesn't start fights or try to hurt anyone, but she definitely thinks she owns the house, and the other birds in the room let her get away with it. She loves attention!  Despite her diva-ish tendencies, I am impressed by her commitment to family and the fact that she puts in the same time and effort as Darwin, Hurley, and Hazel to the family.

Darwin, guarding the box

We have no idea how old Darwin or Hazel are, because the people who dumped them didn't know, but I hope I still have many years left with them. I am curious to see if they will remain in the current family configuration or if it will evolve to a Darwin/Hazel coupling.

I love so many things about birds--cockatiels especially, but my favorite has always been their family structure. I love the way that both parents contribute equally to the egg/chick care. They form these intense, deeply emotional bonds and care for each other in the most touching ways. They represent everything that is beautiful about long-term true partnership-type relationships. They groom one another, feed one another, show affection, and show in hundreds of little ways every day how much they love and respect their partner. I am often humbled by the depths and purity of their love and commitment to their partner/families. 

These families will remain together happily until death, if they have the option. It breaks my heart to think of all of the families that were ripped apart so the babies could be sold into (in most cases) lives of lonely despair trapped in a cage, and so that humans could profit from their pain. IT IS NO DIFFERENT FROM THE VILE WAY THAT SLAVE FAMILIES WERE RIPPED APART AND SOLD.  Humans have no right to take claim or to sell anyone else's babies/family.