The Decision To Give Up Exercise...
What was it like to decide to give up exercise? From the bottom of my heart, TERRIFYING. But it was beyond necessary.
I sat atop the crinkly paper running over the doctor’s patient table across from what felt like a panel. I had two therapists, a dietician, and a doctor on one side of the room staring at me as I sat alone on the other side feeling outnumbered. This was my third check-in with this new clinic that I started with post graduation. We went over my blood work, vitals, and weight as usual and I had not made any improvements. My weight was still low, liver tests high but that had been a constant over these past few years. However, for the first time my blood pressure and heart rate had dropped.
My doctor said, “I know you have been trying to gain weight while still exercising, but it isn’t working. How would you feel about stopping?”
She said it so casually I almost didn’t believe the words came out of her mouth. My heart dropped into my stomach as my eyes welled with tears and my throat tightened.
“I can’t” I whispered. The response came out automatically.
“But why?” she questioned.
“Because I love it”.
In that moment I was overcome with anxiety. I had no intention of listening to the people sitting across the room from me. I was never going to stop working out and I was convinced I could recover at the same time. I felt like if anyone was going to do it this way it was going to be me. I was special, I could defy odds, I could rise to the challenge. But for the first time the doctors had something indisputable to hang over my head. I could say I felt fine, which I did, but I could not argue with these new test results. This was the first time I began to consider that I might be damaging my body, and that the path I was on was not sustainable.
So what did I do? I went straight from that doctor’s office to the track (the one pictured above). I went back to a place I felt safe and that still had order at a time when my world felt turned upside down. As I ran I processed my emotions and the situation. The doctors asked me to stop exercising for a minimum of 3 months. That was way beyond anything I could comprehend at that time. I could wrap my head around one. Just one month, I could give them that. Then at the end of that month my body would be rested, my health would be restored and I could pick up right where I left off.
I was wrong.
One month turned into two, two turned into three and three turned into eighteen going on who knows.
Part of why this process is taking so long is because I was never able to completely stop exercising. Instead it has been a gradual reduction as I first cut out all running and weights but found other means to be physically active. But I would go in for an appointment and my test results would not be significantly better so I would do another reduction, and then another. This cycle has continued over the last year as I have added two a days and bike rides and hiking to the restricted list. Currently I only do light walking and yoga and have to be careful to not do too much of either.
What I have learned through this process is just how much damage we can do to our bodies through over exercising and being underweight, even when we don’t feel (or can ignore) the physical symptoms. I am still waiting for my body to restore all its normal functions to let me know it is healthy again. The sooner you start the sooner your body heals and you can repair/minimize the damage and get back to doing what you love with a healthy relationship.