The Goldilocks Principle

Ah, good ol’ trustworthy beer. My love for you will never die…..Here’s to alcohol: the cause of, and solution to, all of life’s problems – Homer Simpson

Replace ‘beer’ and ‘alcohol’ with ‘running’. Therein lies my problem.

Managing my autoimmune condition can be a challenge as Lupus is paradoxical. Too much running = bad AND too little running = bad. In that way, Lupus is a lot like Goldilocks, a constant search for just right. But I’m incredibly greedy. I love running, too much is never enough!

However, if I run too much, my body responds less like Goldilocks and more like the Father Bear, grizzly, grumpy and out for revenge. But if I run too little, I’m more like the Baby Bear, sad and sorry for myself, and depression (a fun side effect of Lupus) rears it’s ugly head.

But that’s the thing, with Lupus, I’ve become so used to feeling tired, so used to waking up fatigued and grumpy, and so accustomed to my joints and muscles being inflamed and sore, that it has become my ‘normal’.

So, when I woke up last August with what I thought was a virus, I thought nothing of it, and on I pushed. Until I couldn’t.

A week in bed with a high fever and delirium, I was diagnosed with the Flu (with a nice side of almost non existent iron and potassium). My liver enzymes were elevated, but consistent with what would be expected for a person fighting an illness.

Six months, one marathon and two half marathons later, and my Flu was declared to be an imposter (much like the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood). It looked like the flu, it dressed like the flu, but had teeth like Glandular Fever. My liver enzymes were still on the rise and I was promptly referred to a specialist in whirlwind of ultrasounds, scans and blood tests. My liver, they thought, was in big trouble.

But it made no sense; No family history of liver disease. Healthy diet. Active lifestyle. Non smoker. Non drinker. Fit.

And then the question that changed everything.
Do you exercise a lot?

From here, the path of exploration changed and it was very quickly recognised that my condition was related to overtraining and not my liver. After more tests, I was diagnosed with Rhabdomyolysis, a condition in which damaged skeletal muscle breaks down rapidly.

Every time we exercise, we get tiny muscle tears. Essentially, this is how muscles grow and adapt. They tear, repair and grow. But mine were tearing, but not repairing. I was becoming more fatigued, increasingly weak, consistently injured and was never healing. I was never out of breath when running, I was fit and mentally willing, but my body was unable to respond.

The relief at not having a serious medical emergency on my hands, was quickly undermined by the realisation that I would have to dramatically adjust my lifestyle in order to get better. Less running, more rest. And I don’t do rest. But that was got me into this mess.

My first thought was how can I possibly achieve my goals like this? My second thought was, how can you achieve anything if you’re dead? Priorities.
When the why is clear, the how is easy – Jim Rohn

I still want to be an ultra runner. But more so, I want to be a strong, healthy and happy person. I think I can do both, in time. For now, the focus is on rebuilding slowly, training smarter and resting harder.

Over the past month, I’ve cut my weekly mileage from 120 kilometres to 60-70 quality kilometres. I run five days, not seven, and I strength train three times a week. I drink more water, I sleep more than five hours a night and I dramatically changed my diet (but more on that next time).

Not exactly rocket science, I know, and certainly not anything new or innovative, but it has been game changing for me.
Adapt. Overcome. Thrive.

This weekend, I’ll racing for the first time this year. Am I ready? I have no idea. Will I go at it hard? Always. Will I enjoy myself? Absolutely. Whatever the outcome, I’m so grateful to be running again. This is the first of many steps on a long journey to becoming an ultra runner once again.

One thing I’ve learned about myself over the past nine months, is that I’m at my best when things are tough. The tougher the better. Life – Come at me!
Difficult roads often lead to beautiful destinations – I’ll see you there!