Sometimes, People Can't Understand

When you are achieving your goals, you want people to be on board with you. You want people to support you in everything that you do. You want people to understand why you are doing it, and you want them to push you because of that. But what happens when they can't understand?

This past Saturday (October 18), I was doing a small local competition. It was only two workouts, and we do it once a month for a few months a year. It's never really a big deal, and I never try to practice the workouts at all. I just keep going through my regular routine. But this time was a little different.

We started off with two minutes of max rep chest to bar pull ups, rest 2 minutes, and row 1000m for time. Didn't seem too bad. I felt alright. I came in 2nd on the pull ups and 5th on the row. My legs were pretty shot from the row, but it was nothing I had never felt before. But as time passed between that event and my next one, my body started to wear down. I could feel myself getting more fatigued, but it was only one more workout.

I started stretching to get ready for the next workout. I was working on my hips and lower back mostly, because I have a bad lower back and the workout involved a lot of hips. It was 21 snatches, 42 pistols, 15 snatches, 30 pistols, 9 snatches, and 18 pistols. The snatch weight was 115, which isn't really heavy at all. I did my 21 snatches and felt fine. I was wearing my weight belt because I didn't want to sacrifice form at all, but when I started the pistols, I felt weird. So I did my 42 and took my belt off. I did my 15 snatches. They were much slower, as I could feel my back starting to lock up. I finished that and started my pistols again, and I felt it. My back was completely locked up, and it was not going to be pretty for the rest of the workout.

So I pushed through. The last two minutes of my workout, I was fighting tears. I had people yelling at me to keep going (not knowing what was going on in my body), and I had my body yelling stop! It was the most pain I have ever felt in my life. I had never collapsed after a workout with tears in my eyes, but I did this time. My friends got me up and outside to get out of sight of people, and they started to help me move again. Alex (one of the trainers I work with) started stretching me out. I couldn't stand up straight, so I could barely walk. After she got finished stretching me, I could finally move again for the most part. My back was still hurting, I was still crying, and my coach came to talk to me.

He came over and cracked a joke telling me to just walk on my hands to my car (because I love handstand walks). We exchanged a few words about how much pain I was in, why it happened, and what I should do to help, and I left. Later that day, he sent me a text saying that he understands it is hard, but I finished and that's what was important (which I believe is his way of saying he's proud I didn't give up, but he's kind of hard to read due to his dry personality and lack of emotion.) We talked a little about a coaching moment from the day about being positive in workouts because I went in with a negative mindset, and then I told him how I felt about having a chronic condition as an athlete.

I told him "the hardest thing about the back situation is I don't know how I'm supposed to take it. It's not an injury, so I feel like I'm supposed to be able to just work through it. But that clearly doesn't happen." I said this not expecting some amazing words of wisdom or response. I just wanted someone to know that I'm lost in this, and I feel like I've lost some of my identity as an athlete. I feel like I have to find it again, and that's really hard. But his response was "I wish I had more answers for that."

See, that's the thing. He can't have more answers for that. He's never been through this (and I hope he never has to be in my shoes), so he can't understand how I feel. HOWEVER, he can help me to figure out how to do everything I want to do--even with this disease (let's call it what it is--degenerative disc disease). He can teach me how and what to stretch. He can help me to continue to strengthen all of the supporting muscles, and he can help me to find my identity as an athlete again.

So what does it mean when people can't understand how you feel? Absolutely nothing. They can still support and push you as much as you need them to. It's up to you to stop feeling sorry for yourself and put in the work.