Limits

They are so a part of us, that we dont even see them anymore. Our bondaries between what we are and what we are not. Yet those limits can move, can change, sometimes drastically.

I used to have very narrow limits. Physically, in specific. A flight of stairs in 1999 would leave me panting, realling, and need rest. Later, a basketball game was tolerable, but I would take some days to recover.

By 2008, I could surf without the pouding migraines and insomnia that always followed. Days of anxiety, edges of panic attacks, me working furiosly to avoid slipping into hyperventilation. This followed every trip to the gym, yet I went.

And one drink would make my hands shake for a day or more, and my eyes hurt. one day missed sleep and I felt dizzy and sick.

Its different now. Those limits receed like the tide, and I dont know whether to chase them. Its been so long since I thought of myself as an athlete, and had conceeded phycial activity. So it has come as quite a suprise to find that I can, and did, surf for three days in a row. And that pushing 130 was, if not easy, possible, where it has satlike a load of bricks for years. I have put on 5 pounds, mainly muscle, just because I can move that much more in the gym, or climb that more often.

So I push. This week I went out Thursday night until...now. Thats a week solid. Ingesting, drinking, dancing, whatever. And I feel fine.

So, what do you do? Do you push? I was content with my limits. In many ways, they defined me. I was not expecting them to leave. Well, I am going to test them. Experiment. I will continue the celebration and see where the rabbit hole goes.