The ocean told me to go home and get some rest

In this personal article, I share my experiences with fatigue, the intriguing communication of the ocean, and the impact of dietary choices and crossing my own boundaries on my well-being. It all began one morning when my longing for the waves collided with relentless fatigue, prompting a series of discoveries about my body and its needs. Join me on my journey as I reflect on the lessons I learned from the ocean and a friend named Adam.

A few days ago, early in the morning, I yearned to hit the waves with the early sunrise, usually before 6 AM. However, for over a week, I had been struggling with fatigue that stubbornly refused to let me sleep, even though I had been trying to go to bed early. Each night, I would toss and turn, wide awake, reminding myself that I needed rest because the next day involved an early morning gym session.

Despite my best intentions, I consistently found myself drifting off to sleep past midnight, only to be rudely awakened by my alarm at 6 AM. I would drag myself out of bed, feeling utterly drained, and push myself to go to the gym. There were days when I couldn't resist the temptation to silence my alarm and drift back into sleep for another 3 or 4 hours, sending my sleep schedule into disarray.

The persistent question nagging at me was, "Why can't I fall asleep when my body is screaming for rest?"

The following morning, I eagerly rose early to catch the sunrise and the perfect wave. The first thing on my agenda was to witness the Sun's magical morning glow. However, catching those waves proved to be an overwhelming challenge. My surf buddy, Adam, observed me, and said: "Liz, you're paddling like a baby! What's going on?" I agreed, "I can feel it too!" Normally, my strong shoulders would enable me to paddle strong and fast, but today, my shoulders, triceps, biceps, and back felt strangely weak.

As I positioned myself to wait for the next wave, it approached, and I paddled with all my power, but I couldn't get the strength to stand up. I was slow and struggled to maintain my balance. It was perplexing – I might not be the best surfer, but I had always been able to stand up and ride the waves.

Adam questioned, "Liz, are you tired?" I reluctantly admitted, "Actually, yes, I am. But I'm used to pushing through." That was the point when Adam shared a fascinating anecdote about his own experience. Nine years ago, he had tried to surf despite feeling exhausted. The waves had a message for him – the first wave knocked him down and whispered, "Don't play today, you're tired, Adam." He didn't pay attention to the warning and continued. Two more waves repeated the message, "Adam, go home, it's not safe for you in this condition." The last wave carried him back to the beach, where he could do nothing but lie on his board. He couldn't stand up and ended up avoiding surfing for two weeks, thinking he was going paranoid because the ocean seemed to be communicating with him.

I was captivated by his story. It made me reflect on my own attempts that morning to catch that subtle first wave. I couldn't stand up, and the ocean abruptly placed me back on the shore, as if it were saying, "Go home. Get some rest."

As Adam continued to speak, I made a personal decision to take a break from the gym for a few days, to rest. Suddenly, I was overwhelmed by an unforeseen level of fatigue. It was as if I had flipped a switch within me. I said farewell to Adam, walked over to my mountain bike, and there it was – an overwhelming tiredness coursed through my entire body. Cycling was intense, and my legs were in pain. I had lost my strength. I arrived home shortly before 8 AM and, without hesitation, collapsed into bed, falling into a deep sleep that lasted four hours. I could have slept longer, but I knew it was essential to wake up to avoid a sleepless night.

The interconnectedness of our minds and bodies is truly remarkable. Letting go is like an invitation for our body to enter a state of surrender, probably something it has long yearned for. Yet, when the situation demands it, our body's resilience and strength seem boundless, allowing us to keep pushing forward tirelessly.

After some coffee, breakfast, and a fruit juice, I returned to Bonkas, the surf spot, and met Adam again. He remarked that my energy seemed much improved compared to the morning. I proudly stated, "I managed to sleep for a solid four hours, Adam!"

It hit me that I had been in a perpetual state of fight-or-flight mode. I desperately wanted to sleep early because I would been convincing my body that we had to be at the gym in the morning. However, sleep remained elusive, thanks to the cortisol hormone flooding my system and keeping me in a state of perpetual adrenaline. The ocean, in its own way, made me realize that we can demand a lot from our bodies, and they will deliver whatever it takes, whether it's working out at the gym, cycling up steep island terrain, or enjoying a night out with friends. But the ocean is a force of nature, a mirror that reflects our true condition. After that day, I took a two-day break from the gym. I continued cycling around the island, but I didn't want to further spike my hormone levels.

Moreover, I noticed I had developed back acne during this period – painful cystic pimples beneath the skin, without any whiteheads, a clear sign of inflammation likely triggered by regular milk and oat milk.

I abandoned both of them for some time now. Dairy was never really good for me since I was young, as explained by a bio-resonance therapist. However, during my time in Bali, I indulged in more cappuccinos with regular milk than ever before, believing the humidity was to blame for my worsening back skin. However, once I switched to almond milk, the problem was gone! Unfortunately, almond milk is hard to find on Gili T, so I turned to oat milk, despite its excessive sweetness and high glycemic index, which is known to cause blood sugar spikes and inflammation. My reasoning was that anything was better than dairy.

A week into drinking oat milk, my shoulder skin condition worsened dramatically, marked by severe inflammation without visible pimples. I think it attributed this to: 1) my occasional cappuccinos with dairy when almond milk wasn't available, 2) switching to oat milk when I noticed pimples after resuming dairy, 3) the high insulin spikes caused by oat milk, combined with my body's existing stress from excessive workouts, and 4) the scorching heat on the island, leading to constant sweating and friction from my backpack on irritated skin.

I hope my skin will recover quickly by eliminating dairy, oat milk, and some gym days. Additionally, I'm considering incorporating afternoon naps so now and then into my routine, especially with the crazy island heat, which makes it feel like a sweltering 36/37 degrees Celsius due to the high humidity.

But in the end, I can only say; Thank you ocean and Adam, for making me aware of my own situation and waking me up! And I think I'm gonna take a nap now, haha.

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