Hi there, friend! Well, if you have read my blog ever or talked with me in the last eight months you probably know I am training for triathlons. In fact, I am signed up for my first one for the season and I am beyond excited. Like, I just want to squeal. I know I could have done many things better to prepare for this season and I don't have a lot of money or time but goddammit, I am still excited as all get out to go race! Its amazing, the last few months I feel like my life has structure and training has allowed my soul to smile. I am having fun again, like I did with swimming, and I have been able to identify with something deep inside myself in a way I haven't been able to do in a
long time.
What's a long time, you ask? I know, I'm only 26. One year? Absolutely not. I swear I was 24 just yesterday. 5 years? Meh, I was in school and went out to the bars about four times a week and a lot has changed since then (for the better), but relatively speaking it doesn't seem that long ago. Its been ten years. TEN YEARS.
Ten years ago. I was a smiley and relatively annoying and energetic 16 year old. I was in Drivers Ed, felt relatively invincible and weighed about twenty pounds less than I do now. I wore jeans and sweatshirts all the time, no makeup, smelled of chlorine and was pretty much cold twenty four hours a day (nothing has changed). I ate a ton of food, crushed on boys that I never talked to and loved my portable CD player (along with my huge case of CDs). I did well in school, history was my favorite, and had many friends (but few close ones). I loved eating ice cream, enjoyed the quiet mornings (although waking up was the hardest thing ever) and lived on a farm 40 minutes outside of town. I was strong willed with a loud personality, but blushed with shyness when people asked for an autograph. I loved the outdoors and camping and despite heavy training and focus, my parents still snuck my brother and I off to the mountains a few times a year for a long weekend. I was feisty and funny and dreamed big. My goal? Win a bet with my mom for a 4-Runner (my all time favorite car at that age) for getting a full ride swimming scholarship to a big Division I college, win Trials at the ripe age of twenty and go to the Olympics. I dreamed of living the pro athlete life. I clearly believed in destiny and thought being an athlete was mine. And it was just starting. There was something big waiting out there for me.
Ten years ago on the second weekend of May, May 8th to be exact, I was a bright eyed hard working 16 year old just two short months away from the biggest meet in my swimming career. After a 3 hour long swim practice, we did some dry land training. I was the strongest I had ever been - 3 hours of training and I finished feeling exhausted but strong. My endurance was high, my stroke was refined and I felt fresh and excited. My coach invited a parent to play, the parent got aggressive, I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, blah blah blah. BAM. Shoulder was hit so hard, bone broke off. Career over. Dreams dashed. And at 16, I learned the world is a ruthless place and nothing is certain.
The next two months were a blur of depression and tears. I went to doctors but knew I was going to do what I wanted to do anyways, no matter what they said. They said I wouldn't swim. I couldn't swim. I went to Trials. I swam. I was going to that meet no matter what. My coach ostracized me, teased me. He shamed me. He left me at Trials because he was embarrassed. At Trials my coach whispered in my ear 'I hope God forgives you for what you've done.' I felt humiliated and embarrassed for being a failure. I was lost, struggling to grasp what was going on around me and why I felt so much loss. People either told me they understood how I felt because they once had to have knee surgery in their mid-thirties or told me I had no idea what loss was. Either prompted deep sadness; that someone thought they understood my deep feelings of loss or my sudden dis-trust in the world and its people. I wanted to hold on to anything supportive, anything constant. Looking back, while I can't remember much about this time, it was small things that kept me busy. Words couldn't express my sadness, so I didn't really talk about it. I mostly cried alone in my room.
I remember that morning. The practice, my times, the way the water felt, the way I felt in the water. I remember feeling confident and excited for my future. I remember the game. I remember the faces. I remember collapsing to the grass with the sun beating down on me. I remember snapping at the parent (Russ was his name) who touched me, I remember cussing in my head and outloud. I remember the ice bag. The swelling. My mom's hopeless look on her face. The ride home. I feel bad for that little girl, I really do. There wasn't a support system set up for what she was going through. There wasn't anything anyone could say or do. There wasn't a way to comfort a person who had their world, all of their efforts, snatched away. There wasn't a way to prove that, despite this loss, hard work and dedication were still good things to invest time in. There wasn't a way to show a bright side to the situation because there wasn't one. There wasn't anyone who could tell her it would be ok, because no one knew if it would be ok. And for a really long time, it wasn't ok. For a few years, I clung to this dying piece of me, and the eventual loss of myself and the life I knew felt like death. It was a mourning process and while I can look back with perspective, the most important things I learned and appreciate because of this 'incident' were only things I learned after finding strength within myself.
So, with ten years of growth under my belt and a completely different life then I had ever imagined, here are a few things I would never change. And keep in mind, the actual event itself was but a blip in the overall picture; what I have taken away and learned is the true focus and gift from this experience.
I wouldn't choose it, but I wouldn't change it.
Thoughts and changes:
My anger. As you might have hoped, this has definitely changed. At first, I was an angry girl. I was lost and filled with a lot of hate for things that I couldn't necessarily express. I hated certain people, HATED, but had a lot of anger for the situation in general. I internalized the anger and since no one took the blame, I felt I had no choice but to blame myself. For the first few years, any time I saw my coach or the jackass who hit me, I would either shut up like a clam or become extremely and emotionally angry. I couldn't watch my own event, the 100 back, for a few years. Gradually, as I realized I was stronger than I thought and my life went on (because it had to) the pain subsided and the anger became less and less. It just became a lot to hold on to and it was overwhelming. Why be angry when it serves no purpose? Plus, I no longer identified with myself the same way I did when I was 16; I was changing and finding new things to define me. Do I still hate the people responsible? Meh, hates a little strong but... I wouldn't mind if Karma stepped in while I was there to witness it.
My sadness. Again, as you might have hoped, this has changed as well. YAY! I know I was really sad at first. So sad that my mom gets emotional when she talks about that first year or so. I don't think I knew how to come to terms with anything, and it all just came out as pent up anger and sadness. All things lost their joy and I rarely found true happiness in anything. I was a sad girl. I think I remember smaller things from that time period that were supposedly devastating, but I think it was just a little scratch on top of this huge wound. And the sadness just got worse and worse until I left USC. When the doctors told me I wouldn't swim again, and needed a shoulder replacement surgery, I felt like I hit bottom. I was nineteen and totally completely devastated. I was torn apart, and no one could make it better. I moved home, started pretty much everything from scratch and began reinventing myself. It was hard learning a new identity, especially in my hometown. But gradually, slowly, I found or rediscovered new passions. I found that people didn't see me as a swimmer anymore, which helped me. If I didn't see myself as a swimmer, I didn't feel like I failed. It took a while, but gradually, I came around. The biggest thing I had to overcome was that, while I wanted to move on from this past life, I was still going to Physical Therapy and undergoing treatments and MRIs for the same shoulder issue. But somewhere in between all of this, I realized I was pretty damn strong, and despite all the sadness I was finding ways to be happy. While I never actually competed in swimming again, I felt that I had overcome this tragedy and sadness because I dealt with it; I finished it and saw it to the end. I actually took pride in my strength and ability to overcome. Hell, I had four shoulder surgeries, two of which were really serious. It takes a lot of mental strength and patience to have so many surgeries and go through so many intense recovery periods and I appreciated that. When it takes you an hour and then a nap to get showered and fully dressed for the day, you learn patience. After the third surgery, my entire gait and ability to walk and run was lost, and I had to actually learn how to do these things correctly again. Over time the sadness, as well as the anger, turned to a weird sense of pride. I was proud of my ability to become the person I am now while having such a negative past that pushed me to grow. I realized I couldn't be scared anymore. I couldn't fear loss and commitment; I knew I could do it on my own. I even moved down to South America for a winter to both prove the point to myself that I could do it and also to have a kick ass time.
Perspective. Well, yeah. As a 16 year old my world seldom included anyone else. My actions, my goals, my drive, everything was centered around me. I was selfish; I had a strong personality in addition to pursuing a promising athletic career made me this way. I knew there were worse things in the world than not getting the new suit I wanted or having 20 pairs of goggles, or not getting a brand new nice car. I knew that. I knew that there were worse things than camping at a swim meet or staying at a friends because hotels were too expensive. But, I didn't really care. I still wanted all of these things. Same with being injured; I understand I didn't actually lose my life or anything. But I felt bad for myself, I pitied myself. Who else has this happened to? Who else has had so many serious shoulder surgeries? Who else has lost their entire identity before they even really found it? How can someone explain to me how I deserved this? What did I do? It was relentless. But, so was the problem. Shoulders are persistent little buggers, and I learned while I could run away from the lifestyle some things just weren't going to change. So, I dealt with it. And in learning to face a problem head on, fear be damned, I gained a broader perspective on life. My viewpoint on life changed; I no longer took pity on myself. I began to see it as unfortunate, but also has an opportunity to challenge myself to grow above and beyond the hand that I was dealt. I think our perspective on life is always evolving and changing, but I am happy for the way that the shoulder incident changed mine (eventually for the better).
Apologies I never got. This is hard for all of us to come to terms with. Remember when your best friend when you were seven stole your toy? Or when your brother ate your snack when you were so hungry you felt as if you might just collapse to the ground in a heap of hunger? And more seriously, when you boyfriend of a year cheated on you... and just let you drift off into the world, sad and confused to find your own way? Sure, sometimes we get apologies but they are too little, too late. Or we don't get them at all. While its only human to make mistakes, apologies (or lack there of) seem to really have a hold on us (or at least on me). When I was young, I was head strong and always felt I deserved the most heart felt apology, and when we are young we normally get them. 'Ian, say you are sorry to your sister' and the problem is solved. But, the real world doesn't work like that. Shit happens and there isn't a person who calls your phone and says 'Hey, we are really sorry to hear that your coffee spilled all over you in the car this morning/someone hit your dog with their car/someone dented your car in the parking lot/you were the victim of credit card theft/that jerk broke up with you.' And it makes us angry that when we are wronged we don't feel validated. We don't feel we got the closure or the sincere emotion of an apology from that person or situation. Hell, I am still angry about the first person who hit my car - how can you NOT say you are sorry when you slam into a parked car at 40 mph? But, I didn't get the apology and it took almost 10 months for the insurance claim to even go through - too little, too late. There are people that have been in my life that have completely rocked my world in the worst way, shattered any strength I had in that very moment, and I haven't gotten an apology. And I never will. The shoulder, my first handful of pathetic less-than-worthy boyfriends, people who I thought were friends and even the lack of support I had during my chaotic years. And those situations with peoples with faces you can't remember but that seem to hurt so bad you'd just rather not remember at all. I have learned we don't always get apologies and we shouldn't expect them. We can't
make people come around to see our side. I can't
make you be sorry for hurting me. But for a really long time, I dwelled on the fact that no one owned up to making a mistake, to ripping apart my shoulder and apologizing over and over for ruining my life. It kept me from healing or moving on. Was it me? Why couldn't someone at fault just offer up that simple comfort? But for so long, and even now a little bit, that remorse and sincere emotion of an apology was so important to me. I want someone to actually sit with the pain or trauma that they caused, because that's what I always felt was fair. Alas, we all mature and realize that while it sucks the world doesn't apologize. People don't say sorry. People, for the most part, really just don't care. And its unfair to me to dwell on this as its really only harming me. It was a hard learned lesson, but sometimes people just don't say sorry. And sometimes, when they are, they just can't express it in the way you want. Or, it's delayed and has lost its appeal. Whatever it is, we can't let the lack of remorse on someone else's part hold us down and keep us from moving forward.
Appreciation for health. Even though sometimes I am really not that healthy. I totally learned to appreciate good health. Surgery sucks, and being laid up for so long is seriously the pits. Sitting on a couch unable to muster the energy or courage to move because you know it will hurt like the dickens is terrible. Having had terrible shoulders that caused me so much pain and grief, I am so thankful to be able to swim and do things once again! Health is a great gift, and those of us who have it need to be very thankful and do all we can to enjoy it.
Swimmer shoulders. A humorous takeaway, but yeah, I still have the things! They aren't as beefy as they might have been, but I wouldn't trade those puppies for anything. Not then. Not now. Wear your sport proudly.
I can look back on swimming and all the things it taught me with happiness. Seriously, I met some of the most awesome people ever during swimming. And I got to go to some pretty freaking sweet places. The appreciation for all that hasn't and never will change.
While swimming I learned about hard work. Not just 'finishing the task' but actual hard work. You would have been hard pressed to find someone when I was 13 who thought I could made it to the national swimming level, and I only made it to those big meets because I worked my ass off. It isn't just dedication, its passion and acceptance of the lifestyle and I feel so fortunate to have the skill sets to now apply the same passion and dedication to other aspects of my life.
I used to hate this time of year. It only served as a reminder of that difficult day that changed the outcome of my young life. But, now, I celebrate it because I am pretty proud of what I have been through. I know everyone says that, but its real. Its given me a great gift of experience and perspective that I didn't have before. I love the person I am now, and honestly don't think I would be the same without going through that fateful day. And I wouldn't trade my life now for anything - I am happy right where I am.
*Also, I know there are a lot of traumatic events in everyone's life - its life. This was one of my struggles and I hope that by being able to talk and share about how it impacted me - for better or worse - allows someone else to go through something traumatic with a little more ease. Life ain't perfect, and we should all support and help one another.
.jpeg)
.jpg)
