A Pause for Breath

I may not always have looked after myself as well as I should have, especially in my younger years. Back then, life felt endless and mortality like a myth. Over the last five years, however, I’ve developed a much greater sense of self-awareness, both mentally and physically, and the things I once took for granted have become a weight upon me. I realised the only person who could change my inner and outer world was me. I gave up habitual drinking and smoking, hit the gym, and one of the most life-altering paths I stepped onto was jumping headfirst into Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu.

I lost weight, built my cardio and fitness to the highest levels I’d ever achieved, and pushed constantly to become the strongest version of myself. I'd reached another plateau of self-achievement – a place where I could look back at the struggle and say, ‘Wow, I got through all the hard stuff and arrived here, to a place of pride.’ But with every up, there’s always a down. It’s nature’s way of forcing you to search for balance, which is ultimately what I think we should all be striving for.

I am a very positive thinker, a believer in great rewards for pushing through darkness. While this can be praised, I’m also an extremist, and I bully myself – often hurtling through life at one hundred miles an hour, barely able to catch my breath. I rarely relax, and I almost never do absolutely nothing. My brain is hardwired to stay switched on, constantly badgering me to be doing something. Sometimes I wonder how I even sleep. It feels like a thousand voices in my head throwing out conundrums, while another thousand work tirelessly to solve them. It’s chaotic. My wife would agree that living with someone so full of demanding energy can be challenging at times. She is the rational, calm, concise, and clear thinker in our partnership – my perfect yin to my yang.

At the beginning of October this year, I was sparring with a friend and teammate after a BJJ class. While trying to escape a triangle, I caused myself an injury. Rather than tapping – which would have been the sensible thing to do – I yanked my head from the lock and removed several layers of skin from the back of my ear. Within forty-eight hours, an infection appeared in the form of a nasty rash that spread rapidly across my neck and face, continuing for the next six weeks. I was placed on a course of antibiotics and steroid cream, and just when I thought I’d beaten it, it returned with a vengeance, sending me back to the doctor for a repeat prescription.

If I can avoid doctors and hospitals, I usually will. More often than not, I bury my head in the sand and hope any illness or injury will pass. Nine times out of ten it does, though that’s probably not the most responsible approach. This time, I mentioned to the doctor that I’d felt stress and slight compression in my chest, along with acute dizzy spells. He arranged a blood test, and within twenty-four hours I was told my cholesterol levels were dangerously high. I was immediately placed on lifelong medication to keep it under control.

Ah, what the heck, I thought – while I’m here... I mentioned the discomfort and spasms of pain I’d been feeling in my stomach and groin for the last six months, something I’d done absolutely nothing about. After further investigation, it turned out I had two hernias that required immediate repair.

So here I sit, in bed, a week after my first operation, with a six-centimetre scar as a trophy, unable to train for at least six months, and facing further open surgery at the beginning of March next year. That was a hard pill to swallow. I’ve been forced to slow down completely – almost to a halt. But that’s also the silver lining. Greater forces at play have pinned me to the spot and made me take a break from the chaos I so readily throw myself into.

If I hadn’t been injured while sparring, I wouldn’t have developed the rash. If I hadn’t developed the rash, I wouldn’t have discovered my cholesterol levels – levels that may well have led to a heart attack or stroke. And if not for all of that, the hernias might have taken a far more sinister turn before being discovered. I genuinely love life’s strange little connections like this.

I’m deeply disappointed to step away from my daily gym routine and ongoing BJJ training. The thought of being far less active than usual makes me uncomfortable. Yet I’ve suddenly become aware of how important it is to take care of myself on a deeper level. It’s an unusual place to be – a calm that is, in itself, beautiful and peaceful. I’m grateful for the chance to step back, take stock, and truly appreciate what matters: my family, my friends, the natural world outside my window, and perhaps for the first time, myself as well.