Bench Warming 101

I had originally intended to keep this entry in my private journal, but I thought why not share? It may help others "get it", then again, it might not. At any rate, writing about this has helped me a great deal in coming to terms with what's coming and it has also been a very big learning experience. Things like this make me grow.

I'm sure many people in my life have been wondering why I'm being such a crybaby, or why I'm making such a "big deal" about having surgery on my foot. I've been told to "quit whining", "stop crying about it and just get it done", "do it and get it over with already!"

My answer is, it's not that easy.

It's not easy as all.

If it was an easy decision to make, I would have hung up my dance shoes 20 years ago and gone under the knife then when I first started having pain. Instead, rather than step back and recognize that I'm a human being with human being problems, I ignored the pain and continued getting shots in my foot whenever I had troubles. It didn't matter that the pain was so tremendous that I would cry myself to sleep many nights a week, I wanted to be in the dance studio 6 days a week. I needed to be there. I had things to accomplish, competitions to win, and people to blow away!

At 36 years old, I am still the same way I was at 16: I'm here to win and you can't stop me. 

No matter what you say to me, no matter what you do. You can break me down, but I will come back even stronger. I am here and I can do anything. Watch me explode. Just watch me.

The simple truth is, when you ask an athlete (if you have the audacity), to stop training even for a little bit, it's just like telling that athlete to stop breathing.

Are you kidding me? Surgery? Out for months?

It felt like I had been sent to the electric chair. I got a sick feeling in my stomach and I started crying right there in that doctor's office. He said I wasn't the first athlete to cry in his office. Many people had come in with career ending injuries. Mine is not career ending, but I still felt like the flooring had been ripped out from underneath me.

The initial impact was overwhelming. I am not one who sits on the sidelines. In fact, there is nothing that I hate more. I want to get out there, do what I love, and do it as much as humanly possible. Tell me to "slow down" and "take it easy" and I will probably tell you that you have no idea what you are talking about. My sports medicine doctor told me to take some time off. He then very quickly laughed at what he had just said and told me that he already knew I wouldn't, or rather couldn't.

Putting what I love aside for three months, or however long it takes is a loss. That is how to best explain it to others, a loss.

It also doesn't help my cause that I am horrible at asking people to "help". People don't "help" me, I help them. It's what I do. So, when someone asks me if I need help, or says "let me know if you need any help", chances are I will NEVER ask. Admitting that I need help (especially physical help) is a huge blow to who I am. To say that I won't need help during my healing time is foolish. I have four kids, a husband, a house, and a job I can't go to because I need my physical body to work there. I'm quite obviously going to need some help. I just hope that those around me can recognize the help that I need and just lend a hand because I certainly won't ASK you to help me.

This is such a stressful time for me. Hanging up my gi-even temporarily-is not something I've even given a single thought to since I was a white belt. Even when I spent nine months in the police academy, I came at every opportunity I had. I have desire, motivation, spirit, and a drive to succeed that is unmatched by a lot of people. I just want to keep moving forward, above, and beyond my limits. As hard as it can be sometimes, as painful, as character wounding, or building as it can be, I still want to be on that road and not only do I want to be on that road, I want to be the best.

I need to know how to constructively cope with this time away. For so many years, I kept telling myself that the pain was only temporary. If I didn't do anything to aggravate it, I'd be perfectly fine. I could manage it. And I did manage it for a VERY long time. Rarely did I even complain about it. Then all of a sudden, I couldn't ignore it any longer. One night, after no particularly different week in teaching or training, I was up all night retching in pain. It was as if someone was continuously taking a hammer and just slamming it full force into my foot. I was actually physically ill from the pain that night. the next day, I decided that enough was enough. I can no longer live like this.

I saw the doctor the next day and he confirmed what I had already known for years. Surgery was going to be the only fix. There were no more options aside from continuing to live with pain. Yet, the "loss" of my sport? The loss is going to be far worse than the pain of healing and recovery. I've got to sit on the bench and watch for the very first time in my entire life. I've always been the go-getter, the leader, the one with all that confidence. Now all of that has to be surrendered and it is terrifying.

Relying on others is terrifying. The thought of not fully recovering is terrifying. the thought of a slow moving recovery is terrifying. Being without my sport is terrifying.

I've told myself that it's ok to be sad. Heck, I tell my kids that all the time. Now I have to allow myself to be sad. As hard as it may be, I'm not going to push through this as fast as I can (as much as I'd like to). My body will need time to heal and recover, or I may not ever return to karate and that will be absolutely DEVASTATING. I am thankful for my husband, my Sensei, and my daughter's ballet teacher for helping me through, talking to me, and dealing with my indecision. I haven't been easy, but I have been much worse on myself. I already know I will spend a lot of the first week crying (it sure doesn't help that my baby will also be starting full day Kindergarten that week). But it's ok to cry. It's ok.

In my time, I also need to re-evaluate my goals and try to be a little bit more realistic. I want to be 2nd kyu by Christmas, but I know that's probably not possible. It's not impossible, but it's probably unlikely. I don't want to set a goal for myself that will leave me disappointed and self-defeated in the end. "If it's to be it's up to me", but at the same time, I can't control what is beyond my control and I know that.

Still I wonder after sharing this, if anyone else besides the athlete can understand my feelings. I don't expect it I suppose. What I do expect, or rather want from others is people to stop telling me to "get over it", "quit crying about it", "just get it over with". STOP saying that and allow me to feel whatever it is I feel because to admit that I have to sit on the bench for a few months is the hardest thing I've ever had to do.

These last few weeks have been a process. One day I'm angry, the next day I'm frustrated. The next week I think I'm coming to terms and the very next day I question the entire thing. Now, a week and a half out, I'm at acceptance. I know deep inside I will be ok and the chips will just fall as they may. I will control what I can control and let go of what I can not. Either way, it's personal growth and I'll be a better person at the end.