Four days on the North Shore is not enough.
I was just getting into vacation mode when it became time to fly home. Took the team to Hawaii for a meet. Callie came along. Race was Saturday afternoon (we did well). This means flying home Sunday, because there's practice Monday afternoon. But four days on the chill and rustic North Shore is better than none. My wife and I didn't do a whole lot other than hike jungle trails and lounge on the sand. But that's the point of a vacation, isn't it?
The flight home was intense, beginning with the passenger who delayed us for an hour because of his fury having something to do with overhead bin space. I've been flying a long time, all over the world, first class and basic economy, but I've never seen people more keyed up about personal space on aircraft than right now. Just insane. I put on my Bose headphones and slept through it all, waking only when the engines powered up for take-off.
I mention relaxation because I wear one of the Oura sleep rings. It tells me REM, deep sleep, restlessness, and a few other bits of data. But what I paid closest attention to before the little island getaway was Heart Rate Variability. HRV. I can't possibly explain it here, but one of the things it measures is the stress placed on your nervous system. It's like a glimpse into what is going on inside the body and how stress is impacting the heart and mind.
For reasons I cannot explain, my HRV was extremely low the week before flying to Hawaii. Low HRV can signal heart issues or some other impending catastrophe. The notation on my readout said "Pay Attention," which concerned me because I was unaware I was so deeply stressed. I blame Taking Midway. Once I finished writing I didn't have much to do with my time other than drive up to the high school and coach, which isn't stressful at all. Quite the opposite.
Anyway, without the distraction of the book my subconscious was free to be anxious about the things I'm not aware of. The usual things, like the future. Ironically, low HRV also became one of them.
Having no other goal to focus on, I made it my mission to raise that HRV in Hawaii. Calene is a magician when it comes to going straight into vacation mode, so I made it a point to do as she did. Instead of reading a book or listening to a podcast in my beach chair, I just watched (and listened to) the waves. Instead of getting bored silly by watching and listening to the waves and restlessly looking for something else to occupy my time, I literally spent five hours doing nothing — on two straight days! I watched what I ate. Didn't overdo the beer. When it got too hot I jumped in the ocean for a swim. Even went along when Calene said she wanted to go to the gym and stretch. May not sound like much, but I don't stretch.
Oh, sure, there was plenty of research. My hotel is right next to Kahuku Point, where the Japanese planes made landfall on December 7. Pillboxes and an old B-17 runway, Pearl Harbor. The same Laysan albatross as Midway. History was all around. And I brought a couple books to satisfy some of my knowledge gaps.
But research isn't stress. It worked. Took a few days, but HRV spiked.
Safely home from paradise, I have come to the realization I'm not 25 anymore. Pushing my body to some sort of limit, whether it be word count or hill repeats for the upcoming Tough Guy 10k, needs me to counterbalance with the de-stress stuff I have long avoided: sitting still, mindful meditation, stretching. In other words, taking care of myself.
I will admit that I am good at taking care of others, which is why I'm a great coach. But who's going to take care of them if I don't take care of me?