Wednesday, September 28, 2022

Plan, Prep, Pace

I hiked among the larch trees last fall. According to the reviews on AllTrails.com, it was considered moderate, yet kid-friendly. "If a six-year-old can do it, surely I can do it," I thought.

At that point in my health journey, I knew that physical activity exhausted me, though I didn't know why. It was a hike that I tried to take slowly and gently; yet, it still left me exhausted for a full week afterwards.

One year later, with a diagnosis in hand, I hold the gift of hindsight.

For those with ME/CFS, it's not only physical exertion that sucks mitochondria dry and frazzles the nervous system. Turns out that cognitive, social, and emotional exertion add to the load as well. When I thought of all the activities surrounding the actual hike, it's no wonder I crashed.*

With a strong disposition of persistence, I considered what would need to happen for a successful hike this year. Peyto Lake was a spot I had yet to see with my own three eyes (the two on my face, and the one on my camera), and I wanted the autumn colours against the aquamarine water.


And I did not want to crash.**

Photo of Peyto Lake on a clear day, surrounded by Rocky Mountains in the background. In the foreground are mostly coniferous trees, with some shrubs already betraying the fall season with yellow leaves.
(c) Photos by Gina
  • So, instead of a day-trip, it became an overnight trip.
  • I worked from home the day before.
  • I did not take any Airbnb bookings upstairs in the days leading up to my trip, so that I could be more blasé about cleaning and tidying.
  • I did only necessary chores.
  • My friend and I agreed I would not do any of the driving.
  • And, though I didn't ask, she carried my backpack of snacks, water, and camera gear the whole way.
  • We took a slow pace with lots of breaks.
  • I monitored my heart rate the whole way; I kept my breathing measured and steady.
  • And upon returning home, I didn't rush to put everything away. (My car is still half full of gear.)

All this, on top of the regular, daily things I do to keep my system stable.

...Now, the deceptive part about crashes is that they can be delayed by 12-72 hours after the activity or event. I had 3 crashes during the summer, and two of them I wasn't expecting. It's delightful. (#sarcasm). And so, as I went to bed on Sunday night, I wondered, "did it work?" 





...It worked.





As I type this at the 72-hour mark, a smile creeps up my face. My first pacing success.

Next to actually getting my diagnosis earlier this spring, this feels like the biggest of wins. 











* A "crash" is the term in the ME/CFS community to describe overdoing it. The clinical term is post-exertional-malaise (PEM), which means a worsening of ME/CFS symptoms after any sort of exertion. For me, a crash looks like a dysfunctional 24-48 hours on the couch, with brain fog that would make London jealous.

** Not just because a crash feels extra awful, but also because crashes can contribute to overall decline in the long run.