Tuesday, 11 April 2017

Fighting like a MF

Hell is (loosely) defined as:
1) The place or state of punishment of the wicked 
2) Any place or state of torment or misery or something that causes torment or misery 
3) The powers of evil
4) The abode of the dead
5) Extreme disorder or confusion; chaos

Yes, that would accurately describe my past many months; a year now in fact. Chaos, extreme disorder, confusion and most likely powers of evil at play. This accurately describes my body and mind as to what is and has been going on inside of me for the past year.

In the last year I have:
  • Seen 5 different rehab type practitioners (physio, chiro etc.) more times than I can count. 
  • I have been in and out of my GP's office each time feeling like I'm wasting my time.
  • I have had 4 bouts of blood work done, with more to come.
  • Have had x-rays on 4 different body parts, an MRI, full-body bone scan and 4 different ultrasounds all with no tangible results. 
  • I have seen 2 specialists, and am on the wait list for a few others. 
There is no answer for what is going on; no defined treatment or solid direction to travel. Most people just look at me like I'm crazy and ask if I want medication rather than to keep digging deeper to figure out what the root cause of this "injury" is so I can get back to running; and back to life.

I'm going in circles trying to figure this out.

This is my definition of hell.

It's really hard to rehab an injury, to cure whatever is wrong with you when nobody knows "what" is exactly wrong with you and "why" you are getting the symptoms that you are. Yes, I have been strengthening what is weak, learning what I'm able to handle without flaring up and what will send me backwards - all this through trial and error, which is a very frustrating way of doing things. Sometimes certain exercises or movements, even the gentlest of ones, will send me through distress, and pain; sometimes they won't.

Frustrating doesn't close to describe it. And 'losing my mind' ... has already happened.

Getting better, faster and stronger is all about testing limits; this is true in health, performance and recovery. I have been doing this quite well for the past 3+ months. Sometimes it leads me to strength, power and encouragement; sometimes it throws me back on the ground, kicks the crap out of me and leaves me a physical and emotional mess on the floor. This journey has tested my limits beyond imaginable. It has tested my patience and tossed it out the window.

But what can you do?

You either keep fighting or give up - and no freaking way am I giving up!
Have I thought that I was not strong enough? Yes.
Have I freaked out (more than once) and completely lost it? Yes.
Am I terrified. You bet.
Angry, mad and sad all at once? Yes.
Depressed? Most likely.
Determined as hell to beat this shit? Abso-fucking-lutely.

I remind myself, DAILY, that I am strong enough to see this through; even though at times those words are hard to say.

I can't wait to get back to racing, back to running (!) and back to "my normal". It's painful not doing what I love, with who I love. It's painful telling Little Cheetah that I can't do something. My heart is ripped to shreds each time I have to say no. I want to move again, any which way I choose, without fear. Until then, I do what I am able to each day; dealing with my "here and now" and not playing "what if" games, which for me is very hard to do. Luckily this is where Javelin Daddy comes in, telling me what I may need to hear, even if I don't want to hear it at the time.

I am strong. And stubborn. And I figure that's a good combination. There's an answer around some corner...I just need to find it. Until then, I'll keep going around corners, fighting for strength, balance, answers and peace; because the next one might just be "the one" that gets me running, but more importantly able to breathe and back to life again.