Heading into sleepy season: My chassis needs a rotisserie

I was always a sports kid. But as an adult, I’ve traded soccer for CrossFit, and baseball for bulging discs, I guess.

In therapy, they recommend journaling as a form of self-care, to help work through things that are bothering you, things you’re trying to reconcile, or things you just need to eventually accept.

When I was a kid, I used to have to write lines as a form of punishment for my bad behavior. I wasn’t a bad kid, just mainly bored and a bit of a smart ass (a lot of smart ass), so I was constantly burning through the binder paper. The Trapper Keeper was fully stocked at all times. So the thought of writing as a form of self-care is a non-starter for me. Given the opportunity to choose, I’d prefer the whip over the pen any day.

The Cure Became the Poison

Gravitating toward the physical is how I’ve maintained my mental health since the age I could comprehend how much better I felt after being active. I’ve been active my entire life. Think less D1 athleticism and more “pretty good” for someone built like a bridge troll.

Running, biking, swimming, lifting weights, kickboxing, and 13 years’ worth of CrossFit workouts all left me feeling better each and every time. Until the cure became the poison and the injuries started racking up. It’s easier to count what doesn’t hurt anymore because it’s a pretty short list.

So what to do? How to stay healthy? I don’t know. I’m currently dealing with 3 bulging discs in my lower back and chewing through the walls. Pickleball? Water aerobics? I think I’d rather write lines.

The chassis needs an overhaul, complete rotisserie.

Locked In, Burned Out, and Afraid of Bananas

Do I jump online and ask the influencers? I don’t really know anymore which way to turn, because everywhere you turn, someone has conflicting information on what’s the best way to take care of yourself. I’m simultaneously supposed to be “locked in” and disciplined enough to “pay my dues every day” while also listening to my body and “actively” recovering.

I’m fiber maxing and protein maxing and looks maxing and detoxing and grounding and afraid of bananas all of the sudden. Eggs are good, eggs are bad. Meat is good, veggies are bad. No dairy, some dairy, dairy alternatives.

I’m supposed to set boundaries and protect my mental health while constantly being bombarded and pitched by creators to buy the next book, formula, pill, pills, stacks, newsletter, or app. And don’t forget to digitally detox too, and red light, and take your magnesium 2 hours before bedtime… or the cortisol monsters will keep me awake. Don’t worry, there’s something for that too. And debloat, just in case.

Eat more, eat less, rub tallow on my face to make it shine, and put patches underneath my eyes to get rid of dark circles. Look 30 again. Peptides and portions, oh my.

Maybe I Just Need a Nap

So I’m at a crossroads with my health, all aspects of it. Maybe I just need a nap and a vacation. 

If you’ve figured it all out, congratulations. Please send instructions. Preferably a short list I can read while lying down.