What do spoons, beaches, and exercise have in common?
Yesterday was a very active day. My husband and I walked 7 miles to the beach. Once at the beach in Santa Monica, I played around on the aerial hoop they recently put up (and even tried some fun new skills!), then we sat and read by the ocean for a while before walking around a bit more and then Ubering home. Once home, we went out with friends to the local bar, got pizza, and watched a movie. It was an active and amazing day. Now today, I am faced with a classic Sunday decision - to work out, or not to work out?
There's an important skill that anyone involved in physical activity can tell you about, from the Olympic athlete all the way to the patient in a hospital who wants to be awake for visitors. Pacing. Grading your activity level. Maintaining reserve energy.
In the world of young adults with chronic pain, this has been popularly described as the "Spoon Theory" (by Christine Miserandino). In this theory, you start each day with a certain number of spoons. Each activity, from getting out of bed to commuting to work to grocery shopping to going out with friends to working out, takes a certain number of spoons. At some point, you might run out of spoons. You have the unpleasant option of pulling from tomorrow's spoons, but then you're certainly going to feel that you have fewer spoons to work with tomorrow. This is in contrast to our "healthy" friends, who have a pretty much unlimited supply of spoons. While my friends may be ready to just do things without a lot of thought or planning, I need to figure out if I have enough spoons.
The beautiful theory comes with some flaws, but it is nevertheless a simple way to explain pacing to those suffering from chronic pain, and to those trying to understand their friends and loved ones with chronic pain. My biggest issue with it is the assumption that you can never add more spoons to your daily tally by your healthy habits and choices, because I fully believe you can once you figure out strategies that work for you. Since I started this bout of PT for my back, I definitely have more spoons than I did before managing the pain. Still, it is overall a very clear explanation for the constant decision making necessary to function "normally" with chronic pain.
The question of pacing is so relevant to my daily decisions around exercise and fitness. Sometimes, my workouts can "add spoons," making me feel strong, energized, and confident. Other days, a workout may leave me physically and mentally drained, with no energy left to put toward making sure I'm walking safely or driving alertly. I have not yet figured out how to predict which effect it will have on me, so each time I exercise there is a fair amount of anxiety as to how I will feel and function after. If I allot 3 spoons to my workout and think I'm leaving 3 more for the rest of my evening activities (for example, driving home from the gym, making dinner, and showering before bed) then what if my workout winds up taking 4 spoons? How will I get through the rest of my day?
So today, after a very spoon-costly day yesterday, I need to decide whether or not to work out, and if I do, what type of workout? My variables to consider are:
~ Current mental fatigue
~ Current muscular fatigue
~ What joints hurt now?
~ What hurt yesterday that may start to hurt again as soon as I do more than sit around?
~ Are my sore muscles still strong enough today to handle a workout?
~ What else do I want to accomplish today?
~ Will I be able to get to sleep early tonight to be rested for work tomorrow?
~ Are there household chores or grocery shopping that may pop up today?
~ Will my friends decide to do something fun later that I will want to participate in?
~ Do I want to work out? Do I feel like it?
Ultimately, I will need to make a game-time decision. I may set my sights high and sign up for a class, then realize I do not have the energy to even get there. Or I may decide to go to the class but modify the exercises. Maybe I will just go to the gym and manage my own workout instead of a class, but that comes with added anxiety for me. Lastly, I might feel great, go work out, and gain some more energy for the rest of the day. Let's hope that's the decision and result.
There's an important skill that anyone involved in physical activity can tell you about, from the Olympic athlete all the way to the patient in a hospital who wants to be awake for visitors. Pacing. Grading your activity level. Maintaining reserve energy.
In the world of young adults with chronic pain, this has been popularly described as the "Spoon Theory" (by Christine Miserandino). In this theory, you start each day with a certain number of spoons. Each activity, from getting out of bed to commuting to work to grocery shopping to going out with friends to working out, takes a certain number of spoons. At some point, you might run out of spoons. You have the unpleasant option of pulling from tomorrow's spoons, but then you're certainly going to feel that you have fewer spoons to work with tomorrow. This is in contrast to our "healthy" friends, who have a pretty much unlimited supply of spoons. While my friends may be ready to just do things without a lot of thought or planning, I need to figure out if I have enough spoons.
The beautiful theory comes with some flaws, but it is nevertheless a simple way to explain pacing to those suffering from chronic pain, and to those trying to understand their friends and loved ones with chronic pain. My biggest issue with it is the assumption that you can never add more spoons to your daily tally by your healthy habits and choices, because I fully believe you can once you figure out strategies that work for you. Since I started this bout of PT for my back, I definitely have more spoons than I did before managing the pain. Still, it is overall a very clear explanation for the constant decision making necessary to function "normally" with chronic pain.
The question of pacing is so relevant to my daily decisions around exercise and fitness. Sometimes, my workouts can "add spoons," making me feel strong, energized, and confident. Other days, a workout may leave me physically and mentally drained, with no energy left to put toward making sure I'm walking safely or driving alertly. I have not yet figured out how to predict which effect it will have on me, so each time I exercise there is a fair amount of anxiety as to how I will feel and function after. If I allot 3 spoons to my workout and think I'm leaving 3 more for the rest of my evening activities (for example, driving home from the gym, making dinner, and showering before bed) then what if my workout winds up taking 4 spoons? How will I get through the rest of my day?
So today, after a very spoon-costly day yesterday, I need to decide whether or not to work out, and if I do, what type of workout? My variables to consider are:
~ Current mental fatigue
~ Current muscular fatigue
~ What joints hurt now?
~ What hurt yesterday that may start to hurt again as soon as I do more than sit around?
~ Are my sore muscles still strong enough today to handle a workout?
~ What else do I want to accomplish today?
~ Will I be able to get to sleep early tonight to be rested for work tomorrow?
~ Are there household chores or grocery shopping that may pop up today?
~ Will my friends decide to do something fun later that I will want to participate in?
~ Do I want to work out? Do I feel like it?
Ultimately, I will need to make a game-time decision. I may set my sights high and sign up for a class, then realize I do not have the energy to even get there. Or I may decide to go to the class but modify the exercises. Maybe I will just go to the gym and manage my own workout instead of a class, but that comes with added anxiety for me. Lastly, I might feel great, go work out, and gain some more energy for the rest of the day. Let's hope that's the decision and result.
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