The sun warms my skin as the canoe lazily sways as we float the wide Missouri River. Cows graze on either side, the sun bounces dramatically off the white cliffs in the background. It is so quiet that the sound of silence almost seems too loud, broken only by the occasional “moo” of a cow or the rustle of my dog, Hazel, as she readjusts her reclined position atop our dry bags.
While floating down the Missouri River last week, I realized a few important things- in the way that one can do only when taking time away from day to day life.
One thing I learned is how attached I have become to certain routines. Even healthy routines can be harmful if we become attached to them- meaning we don’t know how to emotionally regulate ourselves without them.
For me, this was running. I have come to love running, as a form of stress relief, socializing, being out in nature, and staying healthy cardiovascularly. Obviously getting in the habit of running is a very healthy thing to do.
But on this trip I realized how much I lean on running for my mental health and wellbeing, and I noticed that when the opportunity wasn’t there, a little part of my brain started to freak out…
This is a really common occurrence for runners, or anyone who has a physical activity routine that helps them be a more balanced person. However, it is also important to understand that the very thing making your more balanced can also pull you off kilter.
This “runners withdrawal” is something I am familiar with and can see coming. The way I manage it is by getting out of my “emotional brain” – which immediately will go to worst case scenario (“you’re going to feel awful, you won’t sleep well, you’re getting out of shape!”) – and switch on my rational brain (this is only a week, you can run when you get back, enjoy all that is around you, because in a week it will be gone!).
As you can see, the rational brain is, well, more rational. However, it’s really hard to go to this rational place when we are dealing with the loss of something that keeps us from freaking out. If the emotional brain is allowed to persist, it usually perpetuates a downward spiral.
I have seen this same syndrome in patients who have undergone a surgery or severe injury. Their rational brain knows that switching to biking until their surgery heals will ultimately get them back to running sooner and more healthily, but their emotional brain cries out to them to “just go run now, deal with the consequences later.”
Tapping into the rational brain stops the downward spiral of emotions in its tracks. It get’s you back on course, so instead of paddling upstream, you can just enjoy the ride.
So how do we tap into this rational brain? For me, the red flags for when I am going to my emotional “freak out” brain are certain bodily sensations. My head feels hot, I get a sinking feeling in my chest, and a tingling in my arms. When I notice those sensations, I ask myself,
“Okay, what is really going on here?”
Or
“What would I say to a friend having the same thoughts/worries?”
This can be enough to click on your rational brain, and that can turn a potentially bad time into a good time! And who doesn’t want to have a good time?
So next time you notice you’re starting to go to a dark place with the loss of some physical activity that you love, or even a change to your routine that leaves you feeling muddled inside, follow these steps:
- Notice your body sensations (the more you do this, the more quickly you will recognize your body shifting into the “emotional brain”)
- Ask yourself, “what’s really going on here?” Or “What would I say to a friend having the same thoughts/worries?”
- Rinse and repeat.
Even when you are in an idyllic situation- as I was, floating on a river with nowhere to be and a cold beverage in my hand, my internal climate was becoming a cloudy rainstorm. With the tools to manage my emotions and my reactions to those emotions, I was able to turn it around, enjoy the moment and return to my routine a week later feeling relaxed, restored, and ready to take on the world.
I can certainly relate to what you shared here, since I went through some serious adjustments when I fractured my wrist twice. Not being able to go to the gym or play the piano was really tough. Little did I know what else I would have to give up only months later due to COVID-19. You and Teague gave me, and continue to give me, a lot of love and moral support