Peace Makes It Light

I'm declaring a truce on my battle with asthma.  My emotional response to it has simply worn me out.

I've spent literally YEARS resenting the fact I have asthma.  Every time I feel my chest start to tighten I feel a wave of frustration and sometimes anger.  It's just not fair, I cried to myself as I saw other people running blithely through dirty air, completely unaffected.

Of course, getting all emotional about it just makes it worse.  Panic especially guarantees I'll be sucking on my inhaler and waiting for death.

On Friday I had a doctor appointment that literally left me in tears.  The doctor was super sweet as he explained to me that when the air is bad up here, I just need to exercise inside.  Between the elevation and the air quality, my exercise-induced asthma will flare and my poor benighted lungs are simply being pushed beyond their limits.  (He then pointed out I gained 6 pounds since my last visit 3 months ago, and that extra weight does not help asthma.  He did not know my priorities had to shift a bit the last six months, so he was just doing his duty as my doctor to point that out.)

The main reason to live in Flagstaff is to be outside on the beautiful mountains and in the canyons.  I could feel my lungs tighten as he kindly relayed that forest service control burns and all these darn popular wood-burning stoves are not good for lungs sensitized to pollution.

I had been hoping he would have some sage advice that would lead to a cure and that someday I would not be struggling with this.  He did say that asthma can eventually go away, but stressing my lungs won't help that happen.  Take the meds properly, warm up properly, and be aware of air quality.  He is very pro-exercise so he never said Stop if the air quality is bad, just shift it inside.

After a private meltdown at home and a couple whiny texts to Jesse-the-Trainer, I settled into a fine sulk that I let color my entire weekend. 

This morning I met two friends to work out at the gym. Had a great workout, took a long time to warm up, let the lungs tense up and then ease (which is what is supposed to happen with exercise-induced asthma) and slammed the rest of the workout.  When I left the gym, I felt great, in sharp constrast to the last few times I ran outside.  When I finished those runs, I felt defeated and weak and frustrated and angry.  And painfully out of breath.

I decided this morning that I will look at the asthma as an extra handweight.  It is not a roadblock to my progress or happiness.  Asthma is not even a speed bump.  It is simply present.  It is not Me.  It is just an extra handweight - something I'm aware of and have to take notice of, but not something to stop me.  Being upset about it makes it 100 pounds.  Peace makes it light.

My friend Jayne gave me a pep talk this morning after working out.  She said that even though my weight is stable, my shape is changing, and she sees it every time we are together.  When she got to the gym this morning, I was actually running on the treadmill, and she pointed out how impossible that seemed a year ago.

A year ago, six months ago, just last Friday, asthma was 100 pounds of anger.

I vow to remember, peace makes it light.