5 stages to grief: Denial, anger, bargaining, depression
and acceptance. In many ways, I believe this same theory can be applied to athletes
who are sent to the bench from an injury. Denial: I don’t feel pain. It’s
nothing. It’s all in my head. I’m fine. It’s just a little niggle that will
feel better tomorrow. Anger: How can this be happening! I’ve worked so hard to
get where I am and now it’s being taken away from me. It was all for NOTHING!
Bargaining: If I can just make it through this race, I promise I’ll take some
time off to let my body heal! Depression: I feel lost and I don’t know what to
do with myself. I feel like I have no identity when I can’t swim/bike/run. All
I want to do is sit on the couch and eat ice cream and throw a pity party for
myself. Acceptance: Ok this is where my body is at right now. I’ll be patient,
let it heal and work hard to build it back up.
I recently went through a similar path from my bike crash
in New Zealand. At first thought, I was convinced I skipped over denial. My
first thought after I crashed besides is my face and bike ok, was I’m not going
to be able to race. But if I look further down the timeline, the denial was
there. Not about the race but about how injured I was once I returned home. It
was only after being shoved in the direction of an MRI and hearing the results
that it settled in. Even then I was determined to swim myself to death to
maintain some level of fitness, not accepting the fact that swimming was
clearly hurting me. Some of that was my bargaining. If I can’t ride and run, I’ll
swim my brains out. Clearly, I was angry about everything. There were so many
angry thoughts. There was also a level of eating-all-the-sugar-moping-on-the-couch
depression. I didn’t hide it, I even talked about it hear. I hit my low point
then. Shortly after though, I turned it around into acceptance.
It’s easy to look back and say I was overreacting but it’s
hard in the moment not to be angry and upset. When you are literally told to
move as little as possible, you are left with too much time to think. And eat. But
finally, one day, the switch flipped in my head and I was totally ok with my
situation (I’m still waiting for the switch to flip that makes me dedicated to
losing weight). I stopped thinking negatively and started being happy for any
teeny tiny “training” I could do. I used the time to spend more time with
friends and read more. I finally read and watched Outlanders to see if this
Jamie fella was a good as everyone kept saying.
I like to think I’ve been very, very patient with the
process of rebuilding over the last few months. It has been slow. So very slow.
And there is still such a long journey ahead of me. I’m super happy with the
progress I’ve made though. I’m happy to report that all my injuries from the
crash feel 100% better. That to me is HUGE! I’ve been dealing with some other
pains but I expected other things to pop up as I got back into training. My
swim volume is back to normal and the intensity is almost there. My rides are
slowly bumping their way up in length. Still not long and mostly aerobic work
but I’m happy as hell when I get to do a tiny bit of harder work. My run, as expected,
it the slowest to progress. My first “run” was literally intervals of 30
seconds running and 2 minutes of walking. And let me tell you that’s a horrible
ratio to stomach but I didn’t care because I was running! Now I’m at least at
2.5 minutes running and 30 seconds walking. Baby steps.
Beyond acceptance and patience, I’ve found simple happiness’s
in what I’ve been able to do. During my first ride my power was in my old
recovery range and my HR was around IM effort and I didn’t even care how out of
shape I was. I was on my bike for the first time in a month! I had never smiled so much while on the
trainer soft pedaling along for 45 minutes. Not being able to train has
certainly had its low moments but I see now some of the benefits. I found joy
in the smaller things.
It’s taking time to get over the constant fear I’m going
to flat and fly off my bike again. I’ve had many talks with my brain whenever I’d
go downhill or on a bumpy road to CALM DOWN. I’ve made good progress though and
I’ve spent many hours on the road feeling free. Recently I got to spend time at
the beach with my family and that was the final bit of healing in my mind.
To
me the beach is a happy place, a place for the mind and body to heal. Watching
the sunrise every morning, digging my feet into the sand, swimming in the ocean while my husband-kayak-support tells me there are fins nearby, boogie boarding with my sisters, even having a wave kick me out of the kayak and then landing on top of me…
it’s good for my soul. And so are Duck Donuts.
So yes, I’d say I’m at the 5th stage and even
beyond.
