Self-care: A pot of tea and an early bath
I’m writing this now because two of my counterparts are currently having a difficult time. Fellow cancer exercise specialists who have said they’re having a hard time at the moment. It’s a bit off piste, and not what I’d planned to put together for this month’s edition, but isn’t that just how life goes?
So, today I’m writing about self-care. We know thanks to Maggie Chapman[1] that menopause on its own can call for what she describes as ‘extreme self-care’, let alone the double whammy of cancer and menopause. We need to be able to relax (yeah, not that easy tho, I know…).
I’m lucky – I lead a good, and somewhat privileged, life and I can make decisions for myself whenever I want or need to. I have a job I love and a home life that nurtures and protects me. But I still have the occasional off day.
Being a personal trainer carries with it a significant risk of injury – often repetitive strain, because it’s a physically demanding job. Lots of PTs experience burn out. Being a cancer exercise specialist is bonkersly rewarding but sometimes it’s hard going emotionally. Sometimes it really pulls on your creativity, your self-confidence and your patience.
You have to be able to handle yourself in order to be able to give your all to your clients and those around you. And, you can’t pour from an empty jug.
So, the early bath[2].
My partner had an old boss who was a proper diamond geezer. He had successfully run building companies his whole adult life. He had a really endearing practice: if anyone had a bad day he’d send them home, regardless of the time, with the instruction to drink a pot of tea and have an early bath.
This is, I know, impossibly British. But, without wanting to sound inappropriately superficial, I think most situations would be remedied, in a little way at least, by an early bath and a pot of tea.
I’ve thought of this often, and I do it. As I’m making my way home from the day, if I’m feeling tired or wobbly in any way, I have a pot of tea and an early bath, regardless of the time of day. It means I can draw a line under what’s gone before.
And it’s a whole pot of tea, the good, leaf tea not teabags. I warm the pot, use a tea strainer, proper China cup and saucer, slice of lemon rather than milk.
I make it a big, hot, luxurious bath. You could add in whatever scents and potions work for you. (for me it’s Epsom salts, or Neal’s Yard arnica and seaweed bubbles).
I was heading home on Monday afternoon this week and I felt knackered. Three different people had told me I looked tired, which didn’t help. I felt flat, emotionally, and my knee hurt. And my feet ached. And I Just Felt Meh. But I had a class to teach that evening and I knew I needed to perk myself.
I decided to develop the tea & bath thing into a proper little session of self-care.
So I…
1. Turned off and shut down all electronic devices
2. Had a long bath in Epsom salts
3. Did a face pack
4. Ironed out my legs and back on my foam roller. Eased my IT bands on my marathon stick
5. Did 15 minutes of yoga. Sun salutations and four different levels of warrior pose.
6. Eye mask. Eye drops. Tooth polish, dental floss.
7. Filed my feet. Used the foot roller that I keep in the freezer.
8. Spent 15 minutes on my acupressure mat with my legs-up-the-wall.
9. Ate a really juicy, sweet, ripe pear.
10. Drank a whole pot of fancy pants Earl Grey tea, with a slice of lemon. Best China cup and saucer.
And OMG did I feel better.
Now this all might sound a bit indulgent, a bit privileged, a bit glib. And in some ways it is – none of this will offset serious, ingrained, illness or inequality or unhappiness. It won’t mend the serious shit.
However it is one way that I’ve learnt how to protect my resilience, to sure up my mental health, and frankly, to stay, happily, in work and in a relationship.
It’s how, this week, I handled myself.
Financial outlay for my 90 minutes of extreme care
These things last for years and you can use them over and over again. Compare this to the cost of a spa day, a sports massage or even a session of therapy…
· Foam roller, Argos, £15, I’ve had mine since 2012
· Marathon stick, https://www.the-stick.co.uk/ £31. Have had it for more than 15 years
· Yoga mat £15 lasts for years
· Yoga tuition https://www.amazon.co.uk/Athletes-Guide-Yoga-Integrated-Flexibility/dp/193403004X Currently a fiver. I bought it in 2008
· Foot roller, https://www.shoeinsoles.co.uk/ £8 have had it for a decade
· Acupressure mat. The best £23 I’ve ever spent. Amazon
· Tea. The Earl Grey has little borage flowers in it a £1.50 bag will make many pots of tea. https://www.goodandpropertea.com/collections/loose-leaf-black-tea
In case you want to go the whole hog… I even use a tea cosy that I made myself. https://www.knitting-bee.com/free-knitting-patterns/cozy/tea-cosy-patterns
[1] Maggie Chapman is a highly experienced therapist and author and is a specialist in Cognitive Behavioural Therapy
[2] Idiom (UK). Used to refer to a situation in which a football player is ordered to leave the pitch during a game because they have done something wrong