Deacon, what good news to read from you. Some people find cycling very stressful. This is usually associated with a fear of falling and/or getting hit. My wife is like that but has overcome quite a bit of it, especially on the tandem where she has learned to not only tolerate but even enjoy, at least a little, downhills at 35 mph. (Confession, for a few years I lied, understating our speed to ease her anxiety.) For many other people cycling is a big stress reducer. Perhaps over time your base level has come down and just like a lower resting heart rate gives more capacity to deal with increases before it becomes problematic.
I worked for 13 years as a chaplain at a major teaching hospital. It was a super hi stress job. I estimate I sat through more than a thousand deaths and probably 5 or 10X that many families who were deeply fearful of impending loss. Cycling was one of my lifelines. I had a 15 mile commute each way and it allowed me to release much of the stored anxiety at the end of each day. Of course there were moments of total rage, like the Saturday morning when a pickup truck made a hi speed right hand turn, coming from the left lane across the bike lane. I wanted to kill at that moment. I envy your ability / willingness, driven by need, to cycle all winter. I used to cycle down to around 15 degrees or so (it's -20 this morning) but as I have gotten older I have no urge to ride in sub-freezing temperatures and the occasional mild day produces major slush. So, I don't ride in the winter any more. I do miss it though and find managing emotional swings in the winter more challenging. Heart-centerd meditation helps me to dis-identify with my emotions. Snowshoeing when it warms above 10. Keep doing what you are. You seem to have great insight to what your body & brain need. Oh yea, and I got rid of the TV, so don't watch the news anymore blessings, Michael On Saturday, February 14, 2015 at 2:47:30 AM UTC-5, Deacon Patrick wrote: > > Lungimsam, early on after my 8th+ concussion, I was told I needed > cognitive therapy at least three times a week. I also did vestibular > therapy. Essentially these therapies all tried to recreate the > circumstances of life in an artificial environment and try and get me to do > what I couldn't do. I saw multiple problems with this approach. First, the > cost to get me to, through, and home from each therapy session was > significant. My wife had to drive me, taking her away from her work at home > for at least three hours (90 minutes of driving plus an hour there), my > cost in brain energy (I didn't have enough for the rest of the day, and > needed time to recover for a week plus, but was being seen every other day > during the week), and the cost of repeatedly focusing all that brain energy > on what I couldn't do. If it helps, the main issues I experience with my > brain injury are various cognitive deficits, including little short term > memory, variable brain fatigue due to inability to filter out sensory > input, and constant neurological vertigo on two axes (like being in a > twirling, twisting seat in a roller coaster that goes any direction at any > time). > > I realized I had the perfect "therapy" environment at home: young kids > often creating chaos. I created a "sanctuary" so I had a place to go and > recover as needed (it also became the place I learned to go before my TBI > rage hit, when I was getting over stimulated). I also focused on things I > could do rather than things I couldn't. a minute or two with my kids (this > has expanded over the years to being up to an hour at times with the wee > ones, we have four now, and doing multi-day bikepacking trips with the > older ones), hiking, running trails, and biking remote roads and trails, > writing, reading, etc. What I discovered is that by focusing on what I can > do and what I love doing, I engage my brain, accomplish something real, and > also push the periphery of my capacity, developing new pathways. Also, my > vestibular therapist early on said he'd done all he could for me and the > best thing I could do was continue to hike my mountain trails. > > I've come to call this approach chronic brain injury recovery (though it > seems to apply to any chronic health issue), and now understand that the > medical world is completely geared for acute care of trauma, including > their therapy, which is why it is geared and focused wrong for chronic > recovery. At some point early on (3-24 months) in an injury like this, > there is a shift from acute recovery to chronic recovery, and the approach > also needs to shift. Instead, the system keeps people in "acute therapy" > too long, everyone gets frustrated by their lack of progress, and they get > told their healing has stopped, they're as good as they'll get, or that > they're regressing. Nonsense! > > The end result of this approach after 13 years is a cumulative effect from > a multitude of baby-step miracles that individually may not seem like much > (though they each have made an enormous impact of our family's quality of > life), but looking back at where I was 13 years ago the difference is > stunning. A lot of the improvement is due to coping strategies (I can run > and bike despite the vertigo not because it has improved any, but because > of deeply developing my proprioceptive system by going barefoot.), but a > lot of these improvements are organic to my neural structure either healing > or developing around the damaged areas. I look forward to seeing where the > next 13, 26, 41 years take me! Grin. > > With abandon, > Patrick > -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "RBW Owners Bunch" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to [email protected]. 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