Jason M. Jones

I’m tired all the time. I’d say I don’t want to complain, but this is the Internet, and complaining to perfect strangers is what Al Gore had in mind when he invented it. Still, I wouldn’t mention it if I didn’t feel it was getting worse. My wife, she’s tired too. Most of the people I know who have infants or preschoolers are tired. But lately, there have been days when the term to describe how I feel isn’t just tired but wiped out. In the interest of health, I try eating right and exercising; I don’t drink very much anymore; and for the most part, this has worked out well. Like a lot of people fortunate enough to have good health, I’ve taken it for granted. In my twenties, I had my share of late nights. But when my kids came, I reassessed my priorities. Ultimately, I want be around for them as long as possible. I want to be strong enough to interact with them. And I want to remember as much as I can about their growing up. The added bonus is that when I’m doing all this, my mind operates at a higher level. I’m more consistent with my writing. I can polish off books at a more rapid pace. And of course, I feel more productive. I was doing pretty well with my exercise regimen too, heading into this year.

Starting off in 2015, I misguidedly ran too far at the very beginning of January and gave myself a stress fracture in my foot, and I was careful not to do that this year. Heading into the year, I was doing a six mile run on the weekends and getting in a four-mile walk every afternoon at work. But then came the snow, and it threw me off. I’m not really a die hard when it comes to running. You might see me out there in cold temps, but if there’s snow covering the paths, if there’s the danger of ice, I don’t think the reward is worth the risk. That stress fracture looms heavy. I limped about using a cane for two or three weeks, cursing myself the whole time, and I’d rather not fall on ice and break something, lose further time in a cast. So when the snow melted away, I tried to get back out doing half the distance and building back up. But it’s hard once you’re thrown off for a few weeks. There’s something about not being able to go as far as I used to that makes me lose enthusiasm. Added to this, the only time I could get out and run on Saturday and Sunday was when my daughter and son were napping. And if these naps didn’t overlap and my wife was tired from getting up at night, I’d have to skip running and stay home with my son, so that she could catch up on rest.

Which I didn’t resent. I should point that out. Not in any conscious way. Compromise is necessary when you’re raising kids. But maybe it did bother me a little, because I started to depend on getting into an exercise rhythm in the belief it helped me maintain energy throughout the day and regulate stress and be a better parent. For a while, I was taking my daughter on walks on Saturday and Sunday morning. We’d go four miles. And yesterday, I tried to get back into this. I’d woken up at five-fifteen and we’d done our morning routine, breakfast and coffee, trips to the store. When we got back, I said I was taking her for a walk. We’d go to her grandmother’s house and then to the park. I was already feeling worn down. Maybe it was a bad idea, but I thought, let’s try it. Let’s see if getting in the walk gets my blood flowing. Lets see if it wakes me back up. So we went, and we came back. And I put my daughter down for a nap. And my wife went out back to powerwash the deck while I watched our son in the living room on blanket on the floor. I put toys in front of him, curled up around him and sort of half-dozed while watching TV.

I wasn’t just tired. Tired you can fight. This was the type of fatigue where you pass out momentarily while you’re standing up. And I still had to mow the lawn. And give our daughter a bath and brush her teeth. So I fought it anyway. I tried to eat a banana. I made a protein drink. I ate a Kind bar. But nothing worked. This is the second weekend in a row where I’ve completely run out of energy mid-day. Granted, I went to bed at eleven, which means I got six hours, which is usually enough. Has something in my physiology changed? I’ve been taking allergy meds, but they say non-drowsy, and anyway, drowsiness is different from fatigue. Drowsiness is in the head. This is my whole body. But maybe it is the case that I’m wearing myself out by going to bed too late. Last night I went to bed a little before eight and I’m still not a hundred percent, but maybe I need more than one night.

Then again, there are places your mind goes when the body doesn’t feel right. Intimations of illness. Is there any way I could have contracted mono, I wonder. There’s a mole on the back of my leg that was changing color, but I asked the doctor about it and he said there’s no cause to worry. If this feeling continues I will see the doctor. I don’t feel the compulsion to rush there just yet. It’s been sporadic. I don’t really want to give up the exercise yet, so I’m going to keep going on lunch break walks, the regular push-ups and sit-ups I do, that type of thing. For now I’m hoping it’s related to sleep. I really don’t allow myself enough of it, partially because I feel that if I’m going to bed right after my children, I’m never getting any time to myself. But if this is what it’s come to, if I need to go to bed when they do in order to feel well and rested and make it to the end of the day, that’s what’ll happen. Anybody else have any experience with this? Does this sound familiar to anyone else out there?