Day 1,046. 225 lbs. lost.
I haven’t done my normal blogs in awhile. I was always the first one to talk about my struggles, but I didn’t for quite a long time. Why? I asked myself that last night and tried to come up with a good answer. The only one that I could come up with was this: I wanted to maintain appearances that I was strong. But behind the scenes, I really suffered and it wasn’t something that I wanted to talk about.
I was so amped to get back to CrossFit after my first surgery that my ego signed up for Murph thirty days post-op. I had to push tears back while blood ran down my leg from a surgical incision that had not yet completely closed. But I was going to be tough and show that I could do it, but I had never been in more physical pain in my life. After that day, I decided to wait it out until the surgeries were complete. That “waiting it out” process was the longest eight months of my life. CrossFit wasn’t an option, and I had to completely stop to focus on something much simpler like recovery, but I didn’t know how to do that. Being told that I would have to take time away from something that I loved and that had become my life outlet was difficult. It should not have deterred my mindset but it did.
To say that I had been “cured” from emotional eating would be a lie because it resurfaced during recovery. Probably the toughest part. I didn’t have that place I could go to vent and work out my pain and frustration in a healthy way. Seeing that girl resurface was devastating, to say the least. I thought she was gone for good and I was so pissed. I didn’t pay attention to caloric intake and to be honest, there were days that I just didn’t care. As I learned to walk again, I wondered if I would ever get back to CrossFit again. I had a lot of time to lie around and mull on how bad I felt, which just made it feel worse. Losing enthusiasm is easy to do when you don’t know what the future will hold or how long it will take to feel better. Looking back, I would have done things differently; namely, I would not have waited until the end of recovery to set goals and to be more proactive. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself. I couldn’t even get up onto my bed, how the heck was I going to walk into a box again? I’d lost significant amounts of stamina, strength, power, and mobility.
Eight months after surgery number one and 15 weeks after number two, I felt ready, and I couldn’t have been happier. I knew I was out of shape, I mean I had been laying around watching Netflix for over half the year. But in my head, I had done it. Goal accomplished! Back to CrossFit here we come!
On my first day back, I was wearing my favorite pair of Nanos and hoodie. I was set. What else did I need? The class lined up against the box wall and they started doing line drills. Toy soldiers, high knees, butt kicks. I hadn’t realized I would be unable to do all of them. I was struggling just to keep my balance and walk back and forth, let alone throw any “quick” movement in there. I felt like I could fall over at any moment. The next movement was back squats. I knew I could do well over two hundred pounds so instinctively, I went for the bar. A thirty-five-pound bar felt like 100 pounds. I ended up doing my version of a back squat with just the bar, gritting my teeth and trying to keep from crying the entire time. I couldn’t believe it. I wasn’t able to do much of anything. I had to use a rope to lower myself down onto a rower and the more things I couldn’t do, the sadder I became. When I left there that first visit, I just sat in my car and cried. I really thought that first day, it was all over. CrossFit wouldn’t be part of my life anymore. I never felt more agony since the very first day of my journey, screaming out to God asking for help. “God, please don’t take this from me….. please”.
I misunderstood the mission. I thought the hardest part would just be going back. It wasn’t. It was accepting where I was. Unbeknownst to me, I had been turned around and walked back to the beginning. I was going to relearn everything. This did not sit right at all. It took weeks to get to a point where I was okay with relearning all the movements. Perhaps I had been in denial. I didn’t want to start cleans off with just the bar, how embarrassing! 60-pound deadlifts, that’s it? No… NO NO NO. I laugh about it fondly now, but my own pride was the only thing that kept me from making better progress in those very first few weeks. Pride.
I wasn’t going to get to be the teacher for a while. I wasn’t going to come back and do everything that I was able to do. I had to be okay with being the student again. I had to pack up my pride and ego and put them in a suitcase. Maybe I was ready to go back to the box and repeatedly pick up pieces of heavy metal for an hour, but that didn’t mean my body was ready.
It’s been almost eight weeks since that first day back, and I feel like what I’ve learned can’t be measured because it’s too valuable.
- Modify verbiage. I wasn’t “coming back,” I am moving forward. Trying to live up to a previous version of myself was fruitless. I’m on a different path, and this one is brand new.
- Embrace. This doesn’t just apply to surgeries or injuries, but to move forward, we have to accept where we are. Not just ACCEPT, but be okay with it. Embrace it. The sooner we accept this and get on with setting smaller, realistic goals, the sooner we can start feeling wins again.
- Chance to improve and focus on form. I didn’t look at this way when I started, but returning to the beginning offered me a unique opportunity to learn things the correct way. I had a leg that was tilted so foot and leg positioning on the right side was really never learned the right way. It was done in a way to accommodate. I am learning how to do movements the right way with a leg that now functions normally. If this isn’t an opportunity, I don’t know what is?
- Appreciation. Taking a few steps back allowed me to come back with a new perspective and a rejuvenated quest to learn. It allowed me to remember it’s a part of my life that brings joy.
My new community has been a godsend. #crossfitsouthpaw. It’s special.
Additionally, working with a coach again has also been a blessing. I thought I would be able to handle all my recovery on my own, but the truth is, I can’t. Getting reassurances that everything is going to be just fine moves mountains. He helps me keep my goals chewable, builds my strength and minimizes my obvious weaknesses. #coachaddison
I’ve made it through the worst of it, so the way I see it…. It’s wide open from here. I can do whatever I want and go as far as I want. But it will be small tiny steps at a time. The best part? I’m okay with that.
Lots of love.
I’m so proud of you!
Such kindness. Thank you, friend. I appreciate you.
I cannot tell you how much courage it takes to write a blog like this. such rawness, authenticity, and bravery. Thanks for sharing this. it gives the rest of us courage to do it