But that is okay because I am learning to accept the things in life that you can't change, like snow storms and getting a cold. I love running, I really do, but if I can't run outside, then I'm not running. And if I have the flu, I'm not running. I don't feel bad about these things. I might do the elliptical here and there or go climbing, but I'm not going to get bent out of shape about not exercising. That was the old me. The version of me I felt behind a long time ago and have done battle with for a year to gain the upper ground.
A year ago yesterday I was sitting in an orthopedist surgeon's office while he poked and prodded at my swollen, black and blue ankle and looked at the X-Ray and MRI scans. His professional opinion was that my ankle was completely fucked. I had destroyed it. He said that this was one of the worst Grade 3 ankle ligament tears he had ever seen. Go big or go home I guess, right? The doctor visit was to confirm what I already had suspected when I went to the ER a few days earlier, this was a very serious injury and I would be set back for a long time from doing the things I love.
Let me put this in some perspective, before my ankle injury I could climb for HOURS straight (like 5+), my red point with bouldering was V6, I had recently run a 50K and was starting training for a 50 miler in the fall, I exercised for many hours a day and worked two intense, people-interactive jobs every day. I was very busy and very physically fit, but honestly, not that happy. Behind the face of a girl who was running around all the time, always active and always smiling, there was threads coming apart inside. I've written enough previous posts about my mental state around that time and all the factors that played into that, so I won't get into it in this entry. But let's just say I was not doing too well. And when the only thing you feel like you have control over is your sports and you loose the ability to do those… well it can be completely devastating.
It was extremely painful mentally and physically. On the physical side, my ankle would just throb all day and all night. The painkillers didn't kill the pain as much as they made me just not care about the pain. On them, I felt dull and empty. I couldn't think straight or focus. I was tired constantly. My jobs both allowed me to continue working (which was a miracle and I'm eternally grateful to my bosses for that), but I was certainly limited in what I could and couldn't do. Mainly, I couldn't drive anywhere because it was my right foot that I busted. I consider myself very lucky in that, I get along very well with everyone in my family and love them all very much. I know most people can't say that about their immediate families, so I am grateful. And because I have such a good relationship with my family, I know there is a code of "I take care of you, You take care of me."
And just like that, my dad hopped on a plane and came down to take care of me for the next three weeks. He drove me to and from work, made me healthy food (because I was freaking out about not being able to exercise and getting fat), and took me to the gym whenever I wanted to do abs (and eventually to climb). He bought food for me, he washed my clothes, he helped me ice my foot every night, he listened to me when I was upset, he was patient with me when I was difficult, and he slept on my floor every night (for 3 Weeks!) to make sure I didn't accidentally roll out of bed in the middle of the night and hurt myself. He went above and beyond to help me out when I was in need and it is something that hit me deep inside, because that is what you do for the ones you love. That is something my parents engrained in me throughout my life, and it's a huge part of who I am now. If someone you care about is sick, hurt or struggling in any way, you love, comfort, and help them as much as you can. That's just what you do.
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| The progression of healing |
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| Having a sense of humor about things helps quite a bit. |
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| Valentine's Day Ab Workout |
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| Healing = Icing |
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| My healing shriveled leg |
Another thing my dad and the few close friends I had then helped me see, was that you don't have to always be busy to have a fulfilled life. The life I had of running here and there, always being busy, from 5am to midnight, it wasn't what I really wanted. I learned that having down time to watch The Voice with my roommates or sitting down with a good book or going for a walk were not wastes of time. I learned that just because I have a little fat on me, doesn't mean I'm fat. I learned that the only person I answer to at the end of the day, is me. And I learned that if I'm not happy, no one else can make me feel that way, I have to go find it for myself.
The months led on and I began to heal, but it was slow going. Being the kind of person who was always on the go, always getting things done, always busy, I wasn't handling the slowness all that well. I had moments of deep depression, moments of high anxiety, and moments of apathetic loneliness. It honestly was terrible. Being in the head space I was in, trying to accept the awkwardness of being (mostly) immobile and yet trying to keep pace with who I was before were clashing, and clashing hard. As my foot began to heal, I began to see how I could no longer be the same person I was before my ankle was busted. I began to find that there was a new piece of me sprouting from the remains of who I was. Green from brown. Life from death.
In the coming months I made some massive changes, took steps forward and back, re-injured limbs, and allowed myself to heal. But now, a year and a day post the most traumatic physical injury I have ever suffered, I see that the journey through the storm was one that enveloped ALL of me. My body, my psyche, my emotional state… ALL of me has changed. I still love climbing. I still cherish running. I still would like to stay in shape. But I still love food and baking. I still am all of the things I was before. And yet, I am also something different. I am a runner and a climber who has learned how to balance the sports I love with two jobs, a brand new puppy, a relationship and friends, and who won't allow herself to induce self-inflicted anxiety about my weight/fitness level. I have found a way to accept that life is pretty good at the pace it's at and that more storms will come. I will change more. The future holds things we can't even imagine possible.
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| Then and Now |
So I sit here on the couch, it's snowing outside (again), it's cold outside, my puppy needs to be walked, and I am sick with a cold I can't seem to kick. The storm is here… honestly, it's always here. We are in a perpetual state of before the storm / in the thick of it / in the eye where it's calm momentarily / being brutalized again / what is left after the storm has passed through. Whether that storm is the literal one outside or the ones we face inside our hearts and minds every day/week/month/year, they teach us who we were, who we are, and who we will become.
I leave you now with a beautiful perfect quote by one of my favorite authors of all time, Haruki Murakami:
"And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. That's what this storm's all about."
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