On June 11th, I completed another Spartan Super race and I felt stronger at racing than I had in a really long time. While we have done some races post COVID, I wasn’t nearly in the shape I had been years prior. I was really happy with my results of the race. It felt like I was finally taking a turn out of COVID and falling into some old habits. I love crossing finish lines and this was around my 20th obstacle race. I’ve lost count how many finish lines I’ve crossed, but it’s a feeling I can never get enough of. We did our traditional camping in the parking lot and stopped at my fancy club to enjoy the pool. We had signed up to run the Spartan Sprint the following day, like we’d done several years before. Fort Carson is one of my most favorite courses to run and I was excited to have another medal around my neck.
On June 12th, I got my first DNF after a severe injury on the course, having only completed half a mile. While attempting to traverse a monkey bar obstacle I’ve completed 10+ times, I fell and dislocated my left knee cap. I’ll spare you all the gory details of being rescued and hauled to the medic tent on a race course, but I will tell you I immediately reset my knee like a badass. I held my emotions together pretty well and took the pain better than I expected. But the moment it happened, I knew what it meant. Not only would I not finish the race that day, I wouldn’t be running for months after I had just fallen in love with running again. I would struggle at work and not be able to enjoy almost all of my usual summer pastimes. No river time or pools, no slip and slides, no roller skating or amusement parks. ADA parking and seating at events, people pitying me and thinking I’m broken, braces and physical therapy, and a total rehab of most of my leg….. it was all hard to handle at one time. How did I know? Because I’ve done this before. In high school, I had this same injury.
We went to the ER back home where they gave me a huge brace to keep my leg straight and crutches after Xrays and people rolling their eyes at how it happened. All the while, I’m thinking about how my entire world has just changed. On June 16th, I was starting a new job and would have to hobble in on day one, on crutches. At the time it seemed impossible to deal with it all at the same time, but guess what, I endured just like every other time. I spent 10 weeks in a full leg brace. I gave myself a day or two to be upset about it and then I slowly built a care team of people to help me. Asking for help continues to get easier and easier. Everyone I encountered wanted to know what happened and what they could do to help me. By the time I was done, I had 1 orthopedist, 3 physical therapists, 2 personal trainers, 2 therapists, an amazing husband and countless other friends and loved ones checking in on me and how I was doing. Everyone around me seemed to know: the mental aspect of being injured was going to effect me most.
I don’t know how many times I heard the phrase “I KNOW you.” while I was in recovery. (Which I still kinda am…) It felt good to have so many people looking out for me and knowing me well enough to help me through it. I’m now almost 4 months post injury and things are going well. There was a scare of possible surgery, there were so many opinions and recommendations, but in the end I decided to just let it heal and see what happens. The doctors are all happy with what they see and couldn’t have predicted any better results. The bad news in all of this is they found some serious deterioration of my knee cap from being dislocated twice. I have the left knee cap of someone in their 60s and they expect me to get another 15+ years out of it. Hopefully, science will come leaps and bounds by then and save me with some sort of other option. The good news is, asking for help, listening to experts, and holding yourself accountable works.
I never spent a day out of the gym and worked out however I could every single day I was injured. Whether it was walking for literally hours, or my 500th pull up, I did what I could. I rode the stupid bike; I lifted the tiny kettlebells I never touch; I was patient like I’ve never been before. Somehow, with all of those people helping me, I made it though without too much mental or physical breakdown. While I’m still not to 100%, I feel confident about my ability to get there and build my leg even stronger than before.
If this injury had happened this time last year, I would not have had this outcome. Maybe I wouldn’t have had the patience or grace to get through it at the appropriate pace. Maybe I would have sabotaged my recovery. Maybe it never would have happened because I wouldn’t have signed up for the race. But this year, I was strong enough. I was strong enough to race and get injured and get myself to the other side. Injuries suck. But it would have sucked more to not have had the mental fortitude to get through it. Thank you to every person that helped me along the way; it has made all the difference.
Oh it sounds like it was so miserable. So sorry you’ve had to endure this! I’m so glad you are on the other side of this and mostly recovered! Do be very gentle with yourself!