I’ve always been told I have a high pain tolerance. It stems from years of chronic back pain. Today my back aches. I say ‘aches’ because I break my discomfort into two levels: ache means it’s uncomfortable, and dull; pain means something more sharp and debilitating. Pain means the noise level of the discomfort hinders my thought processes, while I can get numb to the awareness of an ache, even if it is ever-present.

Years ago I was in a moped accident. I was taking a corner at about 55km and hit some gravel. My moped slipped from underneath me and I body surfed across gravel for about 25 to 30 feet, (yes, I’m Canadian and measure speed in km’s and short distances in feet). I’m glad it was an outside curb sending me into the gravel rather than an inside curb launching me into oncoming traffic, but it still sucked.

I needed a bunch of stitches on one knee and a couple more on the other elbow. I also spent over 2 hours having tiny pebbles being removed from my elbows and knees, which took the brunt of my skid. About one and a half hours into this process the head nurse said to me, “You are doing great! We get guys in here twice the size of you that are crying like babies by now.”

My response: “Oh, don’t be mistaken, this %#^*ing hurts!”

And that was the moment that I realized that just like I have my ache/pain scale there are two kinds of pain tolerance, another 2-pronged scale of pain tolerance: There is pain tolerance whereby some people just don’t feel pain like others, versus pain tolerance whereby the person feels pain but is not controlled by the pain despite it hurting a lot/as much as others would feel it. I think this latter variety is where my pain tolerance sits.

Waking up with a back ache isn’t fun. Having to end a conversation with a friend because I can’t sit anymore isn’t fun. Spending time stretching in the morning just so that I can function normally for the rest of the day isn’t fun. But the alternative is pain, and pain really, really isn’t fun… no matter how good my tolerance is.