Jul 03 2012
Silver bullets
Over the past 3 years I have been subjected to varying doses
of the following: biomechanical changes; orthotics; soft tissue treatment; high
volume injections; cortisone injections, fascial treatment; collagen
supplements; chicken soup (seriously!); exercises; more exercises; intra
muscular stimulation; bowen therapy; rest; dietary changes; acupuncture, night splints…. and
probably more that I just can’t remember. All in the name of overcoming
bilateral achilles tendinopathy.
In the middle of May I made the decision that I had to get
totally on top of the situation. Seasons have come and gone. I have to face up
to the fact that I am not getting any younger. I’ve been able to manage the
discomfort, squeeze in enough quality training to get some great results and
then break. Usually right in time for Kona. Obviously this is not physically or
mentally optimal. The truth is that as time goes by the severity of the
tendinopathy gets worse and the length of time between flare-ups decreases. And
therein lies the nub – in recent history I have chosen to manage the pain. I
want to train and race and I have been able to do so. I have let my heart rule
my head and in doing so I have become slave to rather than master of my achilles.
I have payed lip service to those who have tried to point me down the road to
long term solutions over short term gain. The clichés and metaphors are endless
and I am by no means the first or the last athlete to plod along this well-worn
but boggy path. I can wax lyrical about wanting to be the best athlete that I
can be and about fulfilling my athletic potential and dreams. But when push
comes to shove why am I finding it so hard to let go of being an athlete and
embark on being in rehab? To an outsider it’s a no-brainer: of course I need to
address the issues. However, to me and many others, training and racing define
one hundred percent of who you are. I live to exercise. I’m the crazy woman on
the bike, running through town and swimming endless laps of the pool. I love my
daily dose of training fuelled endorphins. I love smashing myself. Races are my
opportunity to express this love! Competition and success are positive
affirmations that my dedication to pushing myself and my obsession to reach my
athletic potential is vindicated. I don’t want to give this up. This is how I
see myself and this is how I believe others see me. I want to be the super-fit
crazy woman, I want to race and prove to myself and to others how good I can
be. I want to do myself proud and in doing so make others proud: my friends,
family, supporters and sponsors. I want to inspire and motivate others to set
personal targets and reach goals. It’s a drug. The more I do it, the more I
want. I love the hard work and the effort because I love the moment when I
cross the finish line and I get payback in pride and personal satisfaction -
you can’t put a price tag on that. By making the decision to rehab I have
pulled the plug on all of this. I’ve taken away the things that make me tick
and, in this initial phase I’m feeling kind of lost. My raison d’être is
missing. It feels fraudulent to call myself an athlete. I feel guilty that I am
not racing and representing myself and my sponsors. I feel guilty that I am
emotional and grumpy with my friends and family. I feel guilty that I am not
contributing financially to my household. I am constantly frustrated by my lack
of ability to see the bigger picture and on having such a selfish myopic
mindset. I mean, in all honesty, I’m only injured and it is only sport!!
I’m a month into rehab and still trying to work out exactly
the reasons for my persistent and chronic discomfort. I am likening this
process to untangling the ball of headphones that you find at the back of the
drawer – a time consuming and frustrating task. You think that you are getting
there but often end up in more of a mess than when you began. What I do know is
that there is no silver bullet for this one. It’s going to be a long process of
changing biomechanical patterns that have been active for many years. I am sure
that lots of small percentage gains will add up to form a stable biomechanical
base from which to build pain-free exercise. Occasionally I find it
motivational and exciting to ponder what results may be possible with far more consistent
uninterrupted training. It’s quite the emotional roller-coaster: waking up pain
free can initiate euphoria whilst the slightest twinge can put a real dampener
on my day. I know that it is self-indulgent to feel like this, but sometimes
navel gazing gives you perspective. Essentially it comes down to a bit of
respect. Respect for those who love and care for me. Respect for those who
guide and mentor me and most of all respect for myself. If I value my own
abilities and potential and the advice imparted to me then I will spend as much
time, effort and commitment on rehab as I do on training. What I realise now is
that accepting that I have to rehab is not letting go of being an athlete, it
is part of embracing the challenges of being an athlete. That’s not to say that
I have given up the hope of being hit by a stray silver bullet. So if you have
a spare one going, please pop it in my direction.
Very well written Catriona. See you soon.
Amazing and heartfelt piece of writing…I completely empathize with you… Holding in suspense all that seems to define one’s self (as the athlete that you are and much more) can only be frustrating, as though one was “taken out of the Game of Life” and put on the “Subs bench”. Hang in there! It sometimes in those moments of lull and silence where life is hanging that our deeper being resonates and we discover more of who we really are! There’s brilliant light at the end of the tunnel ;). I wish you all the best in your recovery! Take care! (from an amateur triathlete who looks up to you PROs ;) ).
Good luck with your recovery. Keep at it and stay strong. You are a talented athlete and if you approach your rehab in the same manner as you approach your training and racing you will back stronger than ever!
Hey Cat,
It sounds like you are getting there and have it pretty much in perspective and I hope to see you and Rich up at Feldy again this year as it really is great to hear you speak of your achievements and challenges at the Pasta party as it reminds us weekend warriors that you Trigods are human and therefore you inspire us even more!!
So keep up the great work (Even though it’s rehab!)and I for one will certainly look forward to watching you racing at Kona in the future, and if you ever need a change of scene then you are always welcome at our swim sessions at Cpt Cardwell’s Lanark Tri sessions……I know our young Trichix squad would love to hear your stories!
Take Care.
Hey Cat… it’s good to see this update as I’ve been thinking about you the past few months. You are an incredible writer; to express and open yourself up like this takes a lot; not an easy thing to do but I have to think it was at least a little therapeutic. Hang in there girl, it sounds like you’re admitting it’s tough and it sucks but trying to embrace it and face it head on. Then I see you broke your clavicle… DAMN! Rest up & keep your chin up. There’s nothing wrong w/ you being moody or emotional and I don’t think you have to excuse yourself… those who know and love you understand. Hope to see you again soon.
Oi! Cheer up and come down Southwards to Águilas one more time!!! Sure it will do some good in warm Murcia! Diana and me send you tons of watts to help you fully recover!!! See you soon!