Vulnerability and Uncertainty

Injury is a reality of any sport. We push our bodies to the limits and sometimes they break. As an elite athlete, I have learned to work through pain and injuries. I have also learned to prevent injuries by being mentally focused, doing rehabilitation exercises, conditioning and flexibility, and by always being conscientious about the ways in which I fall.

But even when we have done all there is within our control to prevent an injury, we still have the misfortune to, just for a little tiny millisecond, loose all control and expose our vulnerable bodies. As I laid down in between the bars waiting for the ambulance to arrive, it wasn’t the physical pain inflicted by my dislocated elbow what hurt the most but the emotional pain of a dream being crushed by an unexpected event. I kept looking up at the high bar and replaying the fall, analyzing what had gone wrong. And as I gazed towards Scott, I felt guilty and embarrassed; I kept telling myself, “Why didn’t you tuck your head? You could have rolled down, instead; you had to put your hands down!”

I turned my face to John who was holding my hand and burst into tears, the physical pain was at this point unbearable and my guilt and embarrassment had turned into frustration and bitterness. I kept saying to him, “Why me? Why now? I am done, I don’t want this anymore. I am done.”

The EMS was certain I had broken both my ulna and my radius and on top of that the dislocation had caused terrible damage to my ligaments: “6 months at least of recuperation,” he said.  I frustratingly realized that this was it; I could not afford to take off 6 months of training because medical school starts in 7 months. Up until the accident things had gone according to plan, I had finally upgraded my difficulty to elite level, in December I was going to go train with the National Team and in February I had a meet in Chicago competing along side the National Team. As I was sitting in the ambulance I began to convince myself that that was the end of gymnastics and I try to ease myself into facing reality. However when the official x-ray results arrived the doctors couldn’t believe it, a clean elbow dislocation with no broken bones. There was hope; the rehabilitation timeline had changed from months to weeks, now we were talking about 10-12 weeks. 

I have never quite realized how uncertain a sport like gymnastics is until today. Even when you think you have everything under control and you are giving it your all, there is no certainty you will make it. Lucky or not, I got myself an extra chance, a chance at healing and coming back stronger than ever to fulfill my dream. This injury has given me the opportunity to experience the end without having to face it. Re-evaluating my past, if I had to quit gymnastics today am I satisfied with what I have accomplished? The answer was no. I had indeed accomplished lots by going from level 7 to elite in 2 years; however, there were faults on my training mostly on my mental ability to push myself beyond fear and continuing self-doubt despite what I had accomplished.

This is now truly my one last shot at gymnastics. I am uncertain about whether or not it is possible for me to heal from this injury and have enough time to reach my full potential, but one thing I am sure is that I want to give it my best try. Now, more than ever, Scott and I must work as a team, but for now we are limited to the time it takes for my ligaments to properly heal and for the swelling to go down. For weeks I have been unable to write this blog post because of how difficult it has been to come to peace with the challenges that lay ahead. John has kept me encouraged even when I go through moments of complete meltdown and I struggle with desire and willingness to keep going.  No matter how motivated I am, pushing myself to keep up with my cardio and weight training, it is extremely frustrating to look at my robotic elbow everyday and feel pain. No matter what I do, the arm seems to progress slowly and time becomes my worst enemy. Is it worth it? I then take a deep breath, I look into John’s eyes, I listen to Scott’s voice, I feel my parents support and I read this post to realize that the pain is temporary, that I will get better, and that it is worth continuing to push myself because giving up will cause a pain that will never go away.