hydration Archives | Carol L. Douglas

Tricks to get myself moving when the body says ‘I want a nap.’

Striping, by Carol L. Douglas

I felt fine when I got home from Scotland. Two days later, I wasn’t so sure, and I spent most of our lovely holiday weekend in a lawn chair with a book (except when canoeing, of course). This week, I ran an errand to Bangor with a painting student. By the time we came home, he was concerned enough to suggest that maybe he should drive.

I can’t decide if I’m suffering from a cold, allergies, fatigue or the ennui that sometimes settles in when I’m shifting gears and restless. The barrier between our mind and our bodies is whisper-thin. Like many Americans, I’m so trained to keep moving that it’s hard to recognize when I’m sick.

Parrsboro sunrise, by Carol L. Douglas

The only way I can tell is by testing my body. Over the years I’ve developed strategies for catapulting myself out of a fog. Most important is routine. Every morning I write this blog, make my bed (so I can’t crawl back into it) and fold clothes. These tasks wake me up. Then I go down to my studio. My brain and body are conditioned to start concentrating at the same time every day.

I cannot overstress the importance of this; it’s why your lawyer, doctor, and insurance adjustor don’t have anxiety attacks every time they approach their desks. The human body loves settled routine, and thrives on regular sleep, exercise and work habits.

Tricky Mary in a Pea-Soup Fog, by Carol L. Douglas

My mother believed you would start moving if you heard a machine working, so she would start a load of laundry while she drank her morning coffee. I’m afraid it doesn’t work for me, but it might for you.

Often what stops me is not knowing where to start. To overcome that, I play a game of “put ten things away.” This is win-win, because you’re either going to force yourself back into motion or you’re going to have a very neat workspace. Ten is about my limit for being thoughtful about sorting, and it’s better than making a commitment to clean.

Water is our bodies’ principal component. It comprises about 60 percent of our body weight. We can live a surprisingly long time without food, but not without water. Fatigue can be caused by dehydration. None of us drink enough fluids when traveling, so when I come back from being on the road, I try to bring up my water intake as quickly as possible.

Marsh, by Carol L. Douglas

Current wisdom says that the basic equation for determining how much water you need is to divide your body weight in half. So, if you weigh 200 pounds, you would need 100 ounces of water per day. (I don’t know if this is scientifically justified.) When I drink that much, I never have the luxury of zoning out; I’m always planning my next toilet stop.

My last mental jog is a brisk walk. Exercise is a proven anti-depressant and makes us more alert. Walking also gives me the mental space to plan out my next steps.

What if I do all these things and I still don’t feel up to working? That’s a vivid warning sign that what I’m feeling isn’t temporary malaise but a true physical problem. I do what any sensible person would: I take some time off to recover.

What works to get you out of the doldrums?

Plein air painters may not often break a sweat, but we’re exposed to the same environmental stresses as athletes.

Niagara Falls, pastel, Carol L. Douglas.

Yesterday, I wrote that when my painting goes south, I ask myself basic questions about my process and the ergonomics of painting. Then I proceeded to ignore my own advice. I felt terrible all day, fighting a headache and fatigue. At 2 PM I took aspirin with a cup of coffee and tucked myself in my bed for a few moments to wait for them to work. At dinnertime, I awoke with a start when my friend Barb hallooed from my kitchen. I’d missed an appointment and wasted an afternoon.

I wasn’t particularly overtired; I was thirsty. Proper hydration is as much a priority for plein airpainters and long-distance travelers as it is for athletes. Although the results of drinking insufficient water are less spectacular for us, they’re no less real.

Headwaters of the Hudson, oil on canvas, Carol L. Douglas.

I often bring my water bottle with me, only to use it as a wind-weight on my easel or for wetting paints. Why am I so resistant to drinking in the field?

The problem isn’t the opportunity to drink fluids; it’s the opportunity to expel them. Even if you’re accustomed to peeing in the woods, it isn’t always possible. Le pipi rustique is simply more difficult for women than it is for men, and I subconsciously avoid it.

As a teacher, I’m mindful about not putting my students in situations where there aren’t bathrooms. As a painter, I’m more willing to go off the beaten path.

Curve on Goosefare Brook, 8X6, Carol L. Douglas.

The same is true with being on the road. Beverage options are limited to coffee, water, or sodas. Rest stops are few and far between, and stopping takes time. Fast food, should you be unlucky enough to have to eat it, is loaded with sodium. While one could prepare food and beverages at home, it’s a third level of packing, on top of equipment and clothing. I never seem to have the time to do it.

It’s true that the benefits of water have been oversoldin recent years. Still, water is important, and we suffer when we don’t drink it. Our bodies are about 60% water. It plays a role in every major system. Cells that don’t maintain the proper electrolyte balance shrivel, resulting in muscle fatigue. Water helps our kidneys excrete toxins and keeps our bowels happy. It lubricates our joints and regulates our body temperature. It helps transport nutrients.

Kaaterskill Falls, by Carol L. Douglas.

Plein air painters may not often break a sweat, but we’re exposed to the same environmental stresses as athletes: heat, cold, and wind. Hiking with our kits, setting up, and tearing down are physically demanding. If we’re not hydrated, we can’t perform at our highest level.

So I’m resolved—once again—to drink more fluids, even when it’s difficult. Now, if anyone has suggestions on how to succeed at that, I’d love to hear them.

An addendum: I had an eye exam this afternoon, and I suffer from a common ailment called epithelial basement membrane dystrophy. That’s a fancy way of saying “dry eyes,” and it just underscores the need to drink more water.

Category: hydration

Digging out of a slough

Hydrate or die