Throughout my years of athleticism, every coach and trainer I’ve ever had has said that recovery is just as important as training. Though some of us are workout fanatics and try to exercise six or seven days a week, muscles need an opportunity to rest and regroup if they’re expected to perform optimally. If they don’t get the necessary recovery time, injured muscles won’t heal or build properly.
It makes sense to apply this theory to past relationships, too, whether they were easy sprints or torturous Iron Man races.
I’m always amazed by the people who can move from relationship to relationship. I’ve known several of these serial monogamists, and while I applaud their tenacity and optimism, I’m concerned that they’re not taking the time to heal.
I like to take long breaks between relationships for the same reasons mentioned by my trainers–usually because I’m tired, dammit, and I need to regroup.
A break between relationships, whether it’s one month or one year, is essential to growth. Emotions need a chance to equalize, and the brain needs to step in and logically determine where things went wrong and how the next relationship can be better.
Plus, it’s important to sink back into single life and swing from a few chandeliers.
I have my own form of relationship rehab. I develop a wild social life–and overanalyze my last involvement.
My end-of-relationship pattern is as predictable as a regimented workout routine. The second I get rid of an ex, I go on an aggressive yet frivolous flirt-fest with someone who is perfect for the after-breakup mini-fling. Typically it’s a guy who’s the polar opposite of my most recent ex, because I certainly don’t want any reminders.
After about two weeks of a fleeting quasi-relationship with Rebound Man, I snap back to reality, revert to my single introspective self and take an extended breather before entering a real relationship. This is by choice and by force.
I enjoy being single; my break could last for many months. But too much rest is detrimental to growth. I tend to take breaks between relationships way too far, particularly if my last relationship was a bad one.
Similarly, although I enjoy working out, occasionally I look up and realize that my Multiplex membership card has collected a layer of dust–whether it’s because of a busy schedule or just plain laziness. I’ve become a victim of inertia.
Once I finally carve out an hour to visit the gym, I’m not at the same level as before. The first day back is hell. I’m achy and irritable. My muscles need retraining, and it takes time to rebuild them and regain strength.
Getting back into the routine isn’t fun, yet it must be done.
After several months of dating hiatus, I feel like I’ve forgotten how to date, which is odd since I write this column (although it frightens most men). And then I force myself to get back in the game and leave the comfortable cocoon of single life, crossing my fingers that I haven’t suffered complete dating atrophy and hoping that I meet some good people.
I might be tired and irritable at first. But even if I get off to a rough start, I keep telling myself that it’s worth it.
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theginaspot@tribune.com
