I’ve had a great time writing my recent “For the Love of” posts. They covered the gamut of my various well-being passions, including physical activity and dance. Now I’d like to chat about my experience with acute pain, my most recent experience with it, and how it affected my physical and mental well-being. I’ve gained some valuable insights this time around that I want to share with you.
I’ve been dealing with acute pain on and off for several years, mainly due to back issues that, thankfully, don’t need to be resolved with surgery. (at least for now). I’ve noticed a pattern when I experience these intense bouts of pain, mainly that I start to socially and emotionally withdraw and stop moving entirely during recovery. It’s classic “all or nothing” thinking and behavior. This last bout was particularly obvious. I had gotten back into regular exercise, treating myself to working out with a personal trainer, started fun cardio classes, and practiced yoga. I had a lower back episode on my right side and already a growing acute on and off again pain in my left back and hip, which I discovered was caused by a cyst pressing on a nerve (in both cases, caused by sliding vertebrae called spondylolisthesis). When the episode subsided, I eased myself back into exercise but was discouraged by this new back/hip pain; it was wearing me down. Instead of finding ways to work around it, except for a few outdoor walks in the woods, I stopped moving altogether for two weeks (and lost socializing at the gym). I’m a fitness expert and yoga teacher, and I know plenty of healthy ways to keep active while managing pain. There was more to it than that. I’ve listed the key insights the experience has given me. Let me know if they resonate with you too:
Recognize “all or nothing” thinking: This is the bratty teenager acting up inside of me. “If I can’t do XYZ, I won’t do it at all.” That’s a terrible way to approach just about everything, fitness included. It reeks of perfectionism, another lousy thinking habit. So how do you get around it once you recognize it? Rather than focusing on what you can’t do, focus on what you CAN do. It is helpful to make an actual list. Then make a concrete plan based on that list. I CAN modify my yoga as much as I need to (I use a great online platform, Ekhart Yoga, with many classes with different levels). I CAN do my core strengthening and back exercises (which the pain management orthopedist stressed during my last visit). I CAN walk moderately. I CAN go swimming (I went to the YMCA pool this weekend, which was sheer joy, and happy to report that I was pain-free). You get the idea here.
Stay attuned to your mood: Objectively paying attention to your mood can be a great catalyst to change them. As I mentioned, after an acute pain flair-up, I tend to socially withdraw and feel less motivated to move my body. I’ve developed some personal strategies to manage my mood better: I talk about how I feel out loud (with trusted loved ones and a professional mental health expert); I journal about how I am feeling; I sometimes do the opposite of how I am feeling. For example, I’ll deliberately make social plans and not back out on them. I know that I feel better after some socializing.
Practice self-care: This is something that I can certainly do more of, especially when dealing with pain. On the ground floor, I do my best to get a good night’s sleep (sometimes challenging with pain) and eat a healthy balanced diet. But I also noticed that I had neglected some soothing practices, such as relaxing evening stretches, hot baths, and heating pads, which can be a balm for the mind as much as the body. We all need a little TLC, leading to my next point.
Practice self-acceptance and self-compassion: I’ve saved the best one for last! It’s so wonderful that these concepts have grown in popularity over the years, and I’ve found it extremely useful to quiet the inner critic. My body is aging, that’s a fact, and it was hard to accept it, especially after 50. I have had to change some of my expectations due to physical issues and quell my ego. I have also worked on being kinder to myself – body and mind. Self-compassion is a first-line defense in self-care. It enables us to treat ourselves as we would a loved one. It lets us breathe and puts unrealistic expectations and perfectionism on the shelf. While I may never have the back flexibility again to achieve certain yoga poses I could do in the past, I celebrate the body I have now and challenge myself to continue with regular practice with loving kindness. That’s taken me farther than any wheel pose ever could.
Accepting our bodies and ourselves in the here and now with loving kindness is a significant first step to making positive change!
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