Know Your Limits. Stretch, Don’t Overreach.

I have spent much of my life believing in pushing myself: going further, doing more and achieving things that seemed just beyond my reach. I still believe in that philosophy, but PSP is teaching me that there is an important difference between pushing myself and pushing myself too far.

There is an old sporting analogy about the Olympic 100 metres that I have quoted before. You do not slow down as you approach the finish line. You run as though the race is 110 metres long, powering through the line rather than easing off before it. I still love that philosophy. Push yourself a little further. Challenge your limits. Don’t give up prematurely.

But there is a world of difference between stretching yourself and overreaching. One is determination. The other may simply be foolishness.

Last night, we had a beautiful family barbecue at home. I would not have missed it for the world. It was a stretch, but not an overreach.

I approached it differently from how I might have done even a month ago. I rested beforehand, reduced stress where I could, took my medication (including CBD oil), ate only foods that were safe for my swallowing difficulties, and made sure I was comfortable in my wheelchair, with my caregiver and family nearby.

Even so, I powered down for a while. My body effectively shut off. I stared straight ahead and could not move or make contact with anyone.

A few months ago, I would have described that experience as terrifying. This time, it was simply unpleasant. I was at home, surrounded by people I trust, and confident that I would recover. And I did.

Perhaps the most important difference was that I felt no real pressure. I did not need to stay until the end, apologise, make excuses or worry about disappointing anyone. I could participate as much as I was able and go to bed when I wanted.

As someone who is rather results-driven, I particularly liked the outcome the following morning. My Garmin recorded the highest sleep score I have ever achieved. I slept for seven hours, including over an hour of deep sleep and more than ninety minutes of REM sleep—something that has become increasingly unusual for me.

I cannot prove why I slept so well, but I suspect that feeling safe, comfortable and in control played a significant part. It was a wonderful evening with people I love, followed by one of the best nights of sleep I have had in a very long time.

Perhaps knowing my limits did not mean enjoying life less. Perhaps it meant enjoying it more.

That lesson is becoming increasingly important because my capabilities are changing. I am not the same person at 51 that I was at 48, 45 or 40, and pretending otherwise achieves nothing.

At the same time, I am increasingly aware of my own impulsiveness. I can have an idea, commit to it, and only afterwards consider whether it was remotely sensible. Not every exciting idea needs to become a plan. Not every invitation needs to be accepted. Not every ambition needs to be pursued.

Sometimes I need to stop, think and discuss a decision with my wife before making it. That isn’t surrendering independence. It is exercising it more intelligently.

A few weeks ago, I led the Rosh Hashanah prayers from my wheelchair. That was a significant personal achievement. I prepared carefully, adapted where necessary and made sure support was available if I needed it. It was a challenge, perhaps a little beyond a stretch, but a calculated one.

Other things are increasingly moving beyond my limits. Long-distance travel, large gatherings and work now require more energy, resilience and predictability than I can reasonably expect to have. There may occasionally be exceptions, but they would need to be exceptionally important and exceptionally well planned.

Last year, I planned a cruise for our joint 50th birthdays—my wife’s and mine. I was not able to make it. As our 30th wedding anniversary approaches, there will clearly be no cruise-style option available. I’ll have to be more imaginative.

Not everything we want to do is something we should do.

I have written before that two qualities matter enormously on this journey: determination and agility. Determination means refusing to give up unnecessarily. Continuing to exercise, participate, write, pray, socialise and find joy even when doing so becomes harder. Agility means recognising that circumstances have changed and adapting accordingly. There is no prize for being a hero.

Neither works well without the other. Determination without agility becomes stubbornness. Agility without determination risks giving up too soon.

This is not just a lesson about PSP. It applies to illness, ageing, disability, work, family life and sport. We all have limits. The challenge is respecting them without allowing them to define us.

I do not want PSP to dictate every aspect of my life, but neither do I want to waste increasingly precious energy trying to maintain a version of myself that no longer exists.

There is a difference between accepting reality and surrendering to it.

The barbecue was an example of what remains possible when I prepare carefully, respect my limits and stretch myself a little. The cruise is an example of something I would still love to do but have chosen not to pursue.

I wish things were different. I miss sport. I miss travel. I miss being able to say yes without calculating the cost. But wishing does not change reality.

Stretch yourself. Challenge yourself. Know your limits.

Sometimes knowing when enough is enough is an achievement in itself.