I Miss Being Able-Bodied

 

I was so active as a kid, teen, and young adult, sometimes playing multiple sports in a season, that injuries were a normal occurrence. My mom used to jokingly say, "If you don't slow down, you're going to be in a wheelchair by the time you're 40!" I would just laugh and tell her I had better make the most of my time then.

I was a college hockey player when I was 18-19. I quit when I got a shoulder injury that required surgery. I wish I hadn't. I chose "chasing a boy" over rehabbing and getting back to the sport I loved. I'm thankful I chased that boy though, because even though our relationship didn't work out as planned, I got two amazing, beautiful human beings out of the deal.

After my divorce I started running for the first time. I had returned to hockey, playing on a women's "for fun" team the year prior. Skating was second nature to me and I was elated to be back on the ice. Running... that was a whole new ball game. But I learned to love it and got to share my experience with so many amazing, runner friends! I ran countless 5K's, several 10K's, and two half marathons before I caved to the pain 7 years after I started.

I was studying martial arts. I was going for my second sash in Muay Thai and my 8th belt in karate when my body began to revolt. Weird pains, not your typical joint pains. I had pain in my collarbone, chest, and ribs that no one could figure out. I had pain in my groin, that no matter how much I stretched, I couldn't alleviate the feeling of pulled or torn muscles. And one-by-one other areas of my body joined in the pain party. 

I went from doing martial arts 4-6x a week, and running several days a week... Heck I even ran to the dojo a few times, completed two classes, and turned around to run back home. But before I knew it I couldn't do any of it. The pain was too intense.

It wasn't just that I had pain when I ran. My body was spiraling into what would eventually be all-day pain, everyday. Now... 10 years after my divorce, I miss my outlets. Our hockey team disbanned before my pain got really bad, but I still miss it (and my teammates). I couldn't have kept playing if I wanted to though. I can barely walk through grocery store, let alone run a mile, or three, or 13!

Now... now it's a good day if I can get up, get dressed, and get out the door to attend to everyday life. If I can make it through work without taking a break to take meds and sit in a quiet, dark area, it's a good day. If I can take the kids thrifting and make it 20 minutes or more without having to say, "Wrap it up, kids. We need to go," because I need to stop moving, it's a good day. If I can get through my entire grocery list and get back to the car without the pain taking my breath away with every movement, it's a good day.

What I wouldn't give to be able to go to my favorite running trail and just GO! Let all my worries, stress, anxieties,all of it fly away as I feel each thump, thump of the rhythm of my shoes hitting the pavement. Or to go on a long, peaceful bike ride. Or go on a hike with my kids. Or even just play Horse with them at the neighbor's basketball hoop. 

I am unABLE to do so many things that brought me joy and happiness. I'm unABLE to depend on my body for basic movement. I'm unABLE to say yes to so many things I would kill to say yes to. I am quickly moving from unabled to disabled and it scares me.

Yet some would look at me, the smile on my face, the laugh in my voice, as I walk with as little of a limp as I possibly can, and say (or think), "I thought you said you have pain all the time... I thought you hurt too much to function... Are you sure it's as bad as you make it out to be?"

YES!! I'm positive it's as bad as I make it out to be, but I absolutely refuse to let it overtake me! I will continue to smile. I will continue to push through and hold as many grunts and gasps in as I possibly can. I will continue to dream that one day I will have an answer and I will be able to work back to the life I once lived. I will continue to fight through it all for my kids, for my husband, for myself. Because I refuse to be a disease. I refuse to be a label. I will fight... mentally and physically to keep as much of myself intact as I can.