Working in IT wasn't my most enjoyable experience. To begin with it was daunting because I hadn't a clue and towards the end it was tediously repetitive. For example one week I had to install a bit of software on 50 PCs which equated to identifying a person, phoning a person, locating a person, visiting the person within the vast building, inserting a CD, pressing a few buttons and waiting. Times fifty.
But it was a good time because there were so many other benefits and not least of these was the money as I was making. No less than four figures every week which was a massive jump for someone used to earning much less in a month. It was also the point I left my home town and had my own place for the first time. I was single and enjoying it. The staff had changed around about me too. To begin with I was surrounded by older married types and over the course of a few years I found myself amid more and more people around my own age yet to marry. From living the life of a virtual hermit in a foreign town it was fast becoming my new home and I was out socialising nearly every night of the week and weekend. Good times.
At some point some bright spark decided it would be good to start playing five aside football once a week against other departments. This to me was great news. I played football from under ten level up to under fifteen until the local district leagues dissolved leaving us all footballless. I played for the schools right up until second year when the football was knocked on the head by teachers' strikes. I played all my life but at this time had not done so for about 5 years. So I was first in the queue to put my name down. For weeks until the first match was arranged I was telling anyone who would listen how good I was.
The day came for the first match and it was like riding a bike. Back in the saddle in no time. Or so I thought. At least that was how it played out in my head. My body for some reason didn't seem to work the way it always had done. This was bewildering. My body was failing me.
As I ran about for those first few minutes my legs started to feel like jelly. When I stopped moving they started to shake. As I started to run again they were stiff and like lead all in a matter of minutes. As I jogged about slowly coated in sweat and a little breathless it suddenly dawned on me that I hadn't actually ran or jogged for a number of years. It never occurred to me as I never thought my body would ever react any differently from the way it always did. But as someone ran past me with the ball I started to chase. Then like someone who had just spun themself around 100 times before chasing I started to stumble and fell flat on my face as my legs gave way. It was the strangest feeling. Never before had I run and my legs given way. For a moment I just lay there not believing what had just happened.
A few minutes later after finally accepting I could not go on I lay outside the hall on the floor having let someone else take my place. I was flat out on my back soaked in sweat taking short sharp deep breaths. My heart was bursting through my chest going at a hundred miles an hour. My vision was all distorted with the bright lights shining down at me from the ceiling. The funny thing is typing this now it sounds alot like a panic attack but only in symptoms alone. I was perfectly fine and knew I just had to give myself a bit of time to get my breath back. And eventually I did. My body would hurt all over for the next few days but it was a good pain I remembered well from the years of football training and when I did Karate.
The following week we played our second game and to my amazement it was completely different. It was all back to the way I remembered it being. My body did what my mind wanted. Instead of bowing out after 5 minutes I played the whole hour without hardly breaking sweat. And every week after that I was fine. It appeared it was just that initial shock to the system of an out of condition body which didn't take long to get into its stride again.
I relate this to how I am now and my abstinence from exercise. Many times I have tried to exercise at home (press ups, sit ups, jogging on the spot, stretches, etc.) and found it hard. But remembering the time I just described I have pushed on regardless of the symptoms in the hope that the next time will be easier. That though has never happened. Each time I try again it is just as hard or harder. Never does there seem to be any progress. And it is the same with my walks. These never seem to get any easier, physically, either which bemuses me. It is the main reason for not going further.
Nowadays I am waiting to be rejuvenated like I was before by my actions but it never comes and so I still wait. Of course this leads me to question why this is so. Is there something physically wrong or is it because the symptoms of anxiety/panic are so close that it is hard to tell them apart? For now I don't know.
