Last Fall I ironed out my race season for 2016 and set a
goal that was really going to challenge me. While it was going to be hard and it
was going to hurt, I was mentally ready to do what it took to get me there. When
my back threw a fit in November, I never thought it would carry over into this
year or turn out to be anything serious.
After 2 spinal injections I slowly got back to training and
started up with my new coach the first week of January. Right off the bat my
body didn’t seem right. Physically I felt fine but my heart rate was way high
and I was really tired. We didn’t do anything strenuous or out of the ordinary
and yet my body just wasn’t responding well. My back started talking to me
again and by mid-January I developed a really bad pain in my left glute (butt)
and lost feeling to my left leg. My gastroc and glute muscle essentially went
to sleep and my leg felt like it wasn’t attached. I went in for my third spinal
injection hoping and praying it would give me relief but it did absolutely
nothing. After talking with several doctors and surgeons, it was clear that I
had 2 choices: live with the pain and hope it goes away and the feeling eventually
comes back or have surgery.
The discussions of surgery got pretty real when I learned
just how bad of shape my back was in. It wasn’t simply a herniated disc but I
have degenerative disc disease in my lumbar spine and there’s very little disc
left. We discussed having a fusion done now but I went with a more conservative
approach and decided to just do a discectomy at this time. Not only was the
thought of back surgery overwhelming, but I was told by one surgeon that I may
never compete at the level I want to again and another told me the half
marathon distance will not be an option in my future. Needless to say, I was
devastated.
I went through every emotion possible through the next few
weeks. For 2 weeks I was so depressed I didn’t even want to talk to anyone. If
I talked about my back or even thought about not being able to run, I cried.
For 2 straight weeks I cried…all…the…time. Then all the sadness turned into
anger. I was pissed. I was so mad that my body was failing me and wouldn’t just
get better. I was so mad I couldn’t workout. I was so mad that I was in
constant pain and the pain just made me angrier. The anger then subsided and here
I was grieving the loss of my 2016 races and all the goals I set. I was
grieving that I wasn’t out there with my running buddies or riding on the crazy
warm winter days. I totally felt like I lost a part of me and something that
was so important to me.
Then one day I woke up and decided “it is what it is.” Like
flipping a switch, I came to terms with everything and accepted it. I accepted
that surgery was the best option and while the next few months might suck, there’s
nothing saying I won’t get back to where I want to be. Sure, I have a ton of
restrictions going forward and need to change my way of doing things, but I’m
willing to make the changes because I want it bad enough. I’m not throwing in
the towel on 2016 either. I know I won’t be all out racing anytime soon but it
doesn’t mean I may not be out there working hard at my new post op fitness
level. J
Today I’m 2 weeks and 2 days post-surgery and I’m already
further along than they said I would be and the doctor is impressed with my
progress. I could very easily ditch my little walks each day and not do my
isometric ab exercises in lieu of resting like they instructed me. But I want
to recover and I want to get my strength back. I want to get back to what makes
me tick.
The point of this rambling…as athletes, a lot of us are
going to have set backs. Some major, some easily overcome. If something happens
that knocks you off track, let yourself feel; know it’s ok to be sad, angry,
whatever and then move on with a positive attitude. It’s hard when things are
out of our control and you have something you want so badly taken away from. But
it’s that positive attitude that will get you back out there. Missing out on a
race or a PR is not the end of the world, it's just spilled milk. Don't cry over it forever, clean that sh*t up and move on. And remember….Things
could always be worse. Always.
And for those that like this stuff....here's a picture of the disc they cut out. Enjoy!
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