How water, metaphorically and literally, calmed my state of mind
I knew I was pushing myself way too hard, but I kept on going hoping to find some peace of mind. We were an hour and ten minutes into an intense boxing class. The sessions were typically part technical and part cardio but this one happened to emphasize cardio. Yay me! There were just a few minutes remaining, the music was loud and the coach even louder. He was constantly shouting different combinations to execute, “one-two, slip, block five!”, “two, pivot, one, roll-under!” I already surpassed my limits, sweating like a fire hydrant during a heat wave. I was beyond tired and that’s exactly what I wanted because this was all I knew about being calm. Pushing myself physically to reduce my heightened mental state. I figured if I was tired then all the stress and the constant chatter in my brain would go away. Except it wasn’t really working. What I didn’t realize was there’s a difference between being tired and calm. And conflating the two had consequences on my mind, body and spirit.
I stumbled through to the end of that class clumsily. The final bell rang at one hour and 20 minutes, or so. I burnt over 1200 calories and maintained a very high heart for a prolonged period. I made it! But as I was walking back on the downtown streets of Montreal, I noticed something felt off. My mind was still racing fast, like really fast. Fast like Lewis Hamilton crushing the Canadian Prix during his Mercedes years. And my body, well, continued to feel tense even though I was taking care of my nutrition and sleep cycle. It’s also worth mentioning that at the time I was undiagnosed and unmedicated for ADHD.
Turns out, those all-out boxing sessions were the complete opposite of what I needed. But, hey! At least I got to brag.
A funny thing started happening with boxing. I began to lose interest. It’s not like I mastered it or considered myself any good at it. Boxing is incredibly difficult because of intricate details that take years to understand. It’s a beautiful sport and I am glad to have learned some of its principles. But I knew I was missing the mark on something. I just couldn’t put my finger on it.
During that time, I became a Certified Personal Trainer and took special interest in stretching and mobility. To deal with my body’s tension, I was applying what I was learning to my gym workouts. But it still wasn’t enough. And mentally, it was as loud as a drunken Saturday night fight at the casino, everyday.
Things only started to come together over the holiday break. I finally got my long over due diagnosis and began taking the lightest dose of methylphenidate possible. I felt the shift almost right away. In just a few days the tension in my body began to ease and my mind suddenly felt quieter. It was an incredible feeling. And I realised, this is what being calm feels like. Any urge to tenderise a 300lbs bag for an hour and a half, vanished. And I wasn’t even feeling conflicted about it. This was what I had been seeking all along!
What I was doing to my body, I later found out, was making things worse. I learned that each of us has a baseline tension in our bodies to keep us regulated. But with ADHD that baseline tension is elevated. Therefore, both muscles and the fascia connective tissue are in a state of heightened neural drive. When coupled with boxing, I created even more tension by profusely hitting the bag. As I chased that elusive perfect jab, I drifted further and further from the calm I was seeking without even realizing it. Not to mention the very loud environment with dreadful music, on repeat, made me even more agitated and it got in the way of improving my coordination.
The consequences of ADHD on the body became an obsession. Finally, an arena to channel my expertise. Being diagnosed and medicated is all new to me, but I do have experience in movement. Unfortunately, in all that time, I was misguided in my efforts to be healthy. I emphasized the wrong sports and it impacted how my body developed. But with knowledge, I was able to make the necessary changes to reduce my heightened baseline tension.
Especially important to understanding what was happening to me, is the Fascia System (FS). Fascia is a soft tissue that connects our muscles to organs, tendons, ligaments, joints, bones and nerves. The FS is highly sensitive to abnormalities. It has 10 times more sensory receptors than muscles. Sensory receptors are nerve endings that detect changes in the external or internal environment like heat, cold, and pain. It also carries the mechanoreceptor subset, which responds to stimuli like stretching, pressure, tension, compression, and shear forces. And those receptors connect to the Central Nervous System, consisting of the brain and spinal cord. In our case, ADHD makes our FS prone to be overly stressed. I found that it is very helpful to incorporate movements that ease baseline tension.
What needed to happen was a change in paradigm. I had to go from fast paced and high intensity workouts to slower and calmer routines. Changing my muscle recruitment from habitually activating fast-twitch muscles, good for reactive and explosive movements, to emphasizing slow-twitch muscles better suited for endurance. It also meant my metabolism needed to adapt. Suddenly, going from burning a ton of carbs to relying more on fats.
To replace boxing, I needed to search within. As grateful as I am for the fitness textbooks I have studied, I was looking for inspiration that lay beyond rote scientific fact. I tapped into my spirituality. I am technically Hindu through my father and my mother is a lapsed Catholic. Neither of these religions or adjacent faiths have ever resonated with me. I was, however, always curious about ancient philosophies from the far east. Notably, practices that incorporate aspects of nature, like the elements wood and earth for example. I believe each of us has a dominant element and is influenced by it. I, for one, know that I am made of fire. And only fire. Somehow, the proverbial Raven stole then dropped the sun on an active volcano that has raged since 1985.
So I did the only logical thing I could think of to help quell my raging wildfire, I turned to water. I was acting purely on instincts, motivated only by a desire to heal. Water is seen as holding healing properties in many cultures around the world. That’s how I got into Tai Chi, I found out that it draws its inspiration from the flow of water.
I knew almost nothing about martial arts outside of boxing. I was expecting Tai Chi to be like Yoga, in that it’s a form of meditative movement. But without even realizing it, I was stepping into Taoism and, to a certain extent, Confucianism. And their approach to meditative movement is completely different. (Note: I’ll explore the differences between Yoga and Tai Chi in another article.)
Taoism is an ancient spiritual practice that seeks an internal balance between stillness, Yin, and movement, Yang. Here’s a passage from Cultivating Stillness – A Taoist Manual for Transforming Body and Mind, translated by Eva Wong.
“From wu-chi comes t’ai-chi. When t’ai-chi moves, it creates yang. When movement reaches its extreme, stillness emerges. In stillness, yin is born. Thus, movement and stillness follow each other. Yin and yang, stillness and movement form the force of creation. From yang and yin are created the elements water, fire, wood, metal, and earth.”
Leaping into Tai Chi felt natural but I didn’t realize why when I started. I think what was happening internally was that I was stuck in yang, or movement, for too long. Taking medication made me feel yin, stillness, for the first time.
Digging a little deeper, Tai Chi was initially described as the meeting place between the two opposites. Water, yin, from the abdomen and fire, yang, in the head. Balancing the two means the immersion of fire in water, creating generative energy that returns to the brain.
I think this is a great analogy for managing ADHD. Our brains, where the fire resides, is all consuming. And our abdomen, where water exists, is dormant. Personally, I have often felt a disconnect between my mind and body. Balancing the opposites is crucial, otherwise we find ourselves in dangerous waters. We can easily overmedicate and neglect our bodies. Conversely, we can skip medication altogether to focus solely on the body but have no control over our minds. The latter is what was happening to me during my time boxing. I was trying to throw the St.-Lawrence River to put out my mental five-alarm fire but failed miserably.
Tai Chi, to me, is the bridge between the two extremes. As I’m learning the form and purposely moving very slowly, I’m also controlling stillness and movement with undivided attention. Tai Chi requires a lot of imagination which I think is great for people living with ADHD. There’s a lot going on and it’s a good thing that it’s practiced slowly. It’s a drastic change for me, but I am loving it because I get to focus on my breathing. In turn, it allows me to gain greater awareness of my core, where water resides, which then gives me the mental stability I need to perform elegant but powerful strikes.
From a fitness point of view, I found myself adapting to Tai Chi rather well and the reason why could be traced to boxing. For all the inadvertent damage I was doing to myself, there were valuable lessons. My body became a lot stronger while my endurance and coordination have never been better. Even though the movements are very different, Tai Chi emphasizes a circular pattern and boxing is generally linear, the common aspect between the two is how they recruit the hip complex. When you punch, it’s not just the arms moving in some direction. It’s the hips transferring energy from your lower extremities up through your spine and shoulders. Perfect execution delivers speed and just enough power. Your arm is more like a whip releasing energy that is collected from your entire body. And like boxing, Tai Chi requires you to transfer your weight from leg to leg as you pivot, block, kick and punch, while always staying mindful of your center.
When translating Tai Chi and the Tao to the Human Movement System (HMS), I find it fascinating how it aligns. The HMS is composed of the nervous, skeletal and muscular systems. And what binds all of it, is the Fascia System which is the largest organ in our body. When practicing Tai Chi in continuous and slow movement with breathing to match it, we’re signaling to our Peripheral Nervous System to be calm. Essentially, it reduces activity in the sympathetic system, responsible for fight or flight reactions, and elevates the parasympathetic system which are our rest and digest responses. Those relaxing cues are transmitted throughout the HMS via the Fascia System creating a calming feedback loop.
Here’s another important scientific fact, our bodies are mostly made of water. Making the Tao’s references to water a lot more than mere metaphors. I think it speaks to a universal truth within ourselves that has always been there but is waiting to wake up. Connecting teachings from the Tao with medication and fitness education has provided me a way to relate mind, body and spirit in ways that are profound. And, as I continue to explore this intersection I will happily tell you about it.
But, one problem remained. As I previously mentioned I have very good endurance. By letting go of boxing, and introducing Tai Chi, it left a gap in energy expenditure that I needed to close.
So I continued with the theme of water and found myself at a community pool, swimming laps. It has been a great addition to Tai Chi and, even, a compulsory component to managing ADHD.
I will tell you more about it next time. If you would like to hear me narrate this story, please consider visiting my website.
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