Running Q & A: Injury and how to deal

A couple days after I wrote about not being The Runner anymore, I got a couple of emails asking questions about that very thing. They really got to me, so I asked if I could share them here. We all should know by now that the emails don’t just flood into this place on a regular basis, so I think I touched on something important. And even if you’re not a runner, I really do think we can all understand what it feels like when we’re saying yes and our bodies are saying NO NO NO.

Hi Lesley,

I’ve been reading your blog lately and know you have talked about not running and what that’s like, and also that you’ve talked about injuries before. I have a question for you. I hurt my knee playing stupid frisbee in the park about three months ago, and now my doctor says no running. Maybe ever again.  I am actually scheduled for knee surgery in a few weeks and the only thing I can think about is that I am twenty-four and I am never allowed to run again. Never another race. Never another trail run.  That sucks!  I am trying to deal as best as I can but most days it just makes me cry. I didn’t even know I loved it so much until I had to think about not doing it again. I am being selfish, I know… thank God for my health and all that but I’m still angry! I guess I was hoping you had some advice for what I can do to help myself get through this and not be seriously depressed for the foreseeable future? I feel like I don’t know where to go.

Thanks,

Heather

Oh, Heather. First, I want to hug you. I know saying I know how you feel is not enough, but I do. And I think through your words, a lot of us can tell just how you feel. And, girl, I understand the anger. Believe me, I understand. The words “right” and “fair” come to mind, right? Because it definitely isn’t. Our bodies can and will spite us, even if we are doing good things for them. It doesn’t make sense.

Here’s the thing, the answer to what you’re looking for is time. Time is what all of this will take to get through, to understand, and to accept. While I don’t know how many doctors you’ve seen or what kind of injury you have and therefore don’t know what kind of surgery you have to have, I’m going to assume you feel good and confident that this is the right path for you and your knee, even if it sucks. I’m going to assume you trust your surgeon fully and that you have either a) gotten other opinions, or b) genuinely don’t feel like you have to.

So I’m going to approach this from the perspective of acceptance, and from the perspective of not getting ahead of ourselves. Athletes love to do that. It is somewhere coded in our DNA that we have to get all psyched about things that haven’t happened yet. It’s part of what makes those things so cool when they actually do happen. You know how you can get all excited about a race? How you can train and prepare like crazy and before you know it you’re at the starting line and find yourself somewhere in between throwing up and passing out?  But then, you get out there and you find that you are able to do what you need to do and get through it, and maybe actually learn something and enjoy it.

That is the same way you have to approach this.  I don’t mean to get all I’m-six-years-older-than-you-therefore-I-know-soooo-much-more but the truth is, you will get through it. And the real truth is you already have it in you to get through it, it’s just going to be a while before you feel it. Say the worst case scenario is that you don’t run again, ever.  That is okay. That’s it. It’s OKAY. You can look back on it fondly, years down the road when you’ve fallen in love with something else that fulfills you the way running once could have. It is a good thing to have had in your life. It’s not like you’re looking back on those years when you stole cars, you’re looking back on those years when you RAN. When your feet carried you faster than you ever thought you could move. When you couldn’t wait to get out there and start sweating and breathing heavy. When your friends called you insane because you skipped their New Years Eve party in favor of a New Years Day 5K.

I promise you these months of this anger and frustration will not always seem so heavy. I promise that there are other things that will make your body work and your heart race and your mind let go. And I’ll bet if you think back, even just a few years, you can pick out a time in your life when you thought the whole world was changing because something was happening that was out of your control. Eventually, you got through it. You moved on and now you can see it for what it was, a moment. This is the same thing. You have to go through it, that is reality, but it will not last forever. That is both the best and worst thing about any moment, they don’t last.

I don’t mean to philosophize here, but I see so much of my own feelings and thoughts about running and injuries in your words, and it’s hard for me to not use the same things I’ve been telling myself for you. You have to find your own way to take what you’ve learned from running and use it in the future. You could very well run again, stranger things have happened. Or, one day you could get on a bike and wonder what the hell you were ever doing on foot. Or jump in a pool. Or walk into a yoga studio. Or kick someone’s ass in Judo. As ridiculous as it all sounds right now, it’s all totally possible. With some time, you’ll be surprised how easily your mind will open up and fill that need, that space.

In the meantime, take care of your body, give yourself a break, and practice not getting too far ahead of where you are right now.  I’m pretty sure passing out or throwing up is less unacceptable on a bike, or in a pool, or in a yoga studio, or on someone named Krev wearing a pristine, white Gi than it ever was in a starting corral.