Last week, in a moment of clarity, I picked up my racket and my trainers, and I went to play tennis “on the wall”. Whilst I had done it a few times with my son, this time, it was only for me. It felt liberating and focused, painful and easy, deep and meditative all in one. Why did I want to hit a wall?
Hitting the wall
In a marathon, they say the wall comes at km 30, when you are past the exhaustion and the energy that your body can thrive in. They say this is where people need cheering and crowds to support them, strategies to keep going. And they say it is very real. If you hit it, the rest of the run will not be the same. That is, if you make it to the rest of the run.
“It all seems to crumble around you. Your legs simultaneously feel like they are made of jelly, yet also weigh eight tonnes each. Every step is an absolute triumph of will, and you start to seriously doubt that the race even has a finish line” – Runner’s World
I am not a runner, and even less of a marathoner, but I find that marathons can be a good analogy for how one chooses to live their life. I have done my marathons, often without prep, often disguised as long sprints. And often I have seen the wall from afar and up close and personal. Often, I have barely missed it, dodged it or stopped right by it. And a few times, I hit it.
You learn a few lessons, you change a few ways, and then, just as a marathon runner does, you think you can be different next time, prep better, improve your performance, and you register for yet another marathon.
What wall are we talking about?
If you are confused about how I go from playing tennis against the wall to hitting the imaginary wall on a marathon, you have every right to be. But let’s stay with it just a bit longer.
Before Easter, as I ramped up all areas of work, distraught by the arrival of the second quarter and the slowness of some projects to come to fruition, together with some cycles of firefighting that don’t seem to change pattern, I had glimpses of the wall. I wondered, and at times I even doubted how long I could cope with this ultramarathon that I chose to run. Actually, I wondered how long I wanted to cope with it.
Yes, even living the dream, one can sometimes wonder if the dream is right.
I did not feel the wall upon me, but I certainly was not seeing only green pastures. Luckily, my ski holiday was coming up to allow a quick reset. I was not coming at it from a perspective of physical and mental exhaustion, like many times before. Instead, my mind was playing tricks on me, and I was confident the physical exercise and the freedom of the mountains would take care of it.
When life hits a wall (or a tree)
Skiing was a whole different experience this year. Usually, it allows me to disconnect, reset and get perspective. The intense physical activity has made it more challenging every year, but I still cherish the chance it gives me to have no excuses to work. Until this year, and no matter how much I needed to work, I mostly switched off physically, but rarely mentally. I allowed myself casual spa and rest breaks from skiing and, with that, got some work done in between.
If I thought ski was going to steer me away from any wall, I was mistaken. But it was a very different type of wall. One that stops you in your tracks and brings you to your knees before you decide how you will move on. It was not work, it was not exhaustion, it was not lack of energy.
The wall came in the shape of an accident for Baby S, surrounded by all sorts of fears and tears. Luckily, the final outcome was harmless, but the scare that came amidst a series of mishaps brought everything to a halt. Ski, work, writing, thinking. As I hit this concrete wall, my chosen path was to block all emotions and wait. It had been a long time since I had to do this.
In case of doubt, I built a wall to fight the wall.
And the tennis?
As I came back to reality last week, I was still shaken, and so I did what I have always done best when discomfort hits: I threw myself into work and organising the house. As I noticed what I was doing, tennis was my salvation.
As I faced the wall, I was ready to face the demons that haunted me. In real life, you don’t survive a crash against a wall easily. In my own little world, I was walking through the wall with a tennis racket and hoping to leave unharmed, even improved. And ready to work with it rather than being defeated.
Each time the ball came back, I stayed on. I missed a lot of shots, I lost my nerve, and at times I felt a bit proud of myself. Throughout it all, the wall allowed me to process, to isolate myself and to slowly release all the stress that had accumulated in my system.
And whilst it is not all out yet (I plan to keep using the wall and enjoy it rather than fight it), I see how it has allowed me to reconnect with myself, my mind and my emotions.
Sometimes, a wall is what you need to give you perspective and raise your awareness. A wall to stop you and a wall to help you break through. I found mine.