Oh, How Time Flies

The first blog post has to be pretty freaking great, right? That's too much pressure, especially since it's a Monday. #priorities

Anyways, I'd like to dedicate this to a huge hurdle I've overcome since November 8th, 2015 - the night I tore my left achilles tendon in a volleyball match overseas. My achilles tear injury last year was the worst and the best thing that could've happened to me as an athlete. (Wtf? How?)

It broke my heart & soul at first, but I am so humbled now. I am human. My body is not invincible just because I am young and active. While volleyball has been the only evidence of consistency in my life, I never once stopped to think "What happens when I can't play anymore?"...

All the years of sacrifice and emotion put into getting better as an athlete were not to prepare me necessarily for the next level of competition. It prepared me for this - The journey from feelings of absolute disappointment and pain, to the realization that the body will accomplish only what the mind believes. Easy, right?

Hah...nope. Because sometimes our emotions just overpower any sense of hope or vision of a different circumstance. We are human. We see what is in front of us, and react accordingly to this first. No calculated plans; it's just instinct. Every day was a persistent, conscious effort to tell myself everything would be okay...in time. Just be patient. THIS was the fire inside that kept me going. THIS is what got my handicapped a** out of bed early mornings to physical therapy and countless appointments with my surgeon. If I could convince myself...even for a moment...that I'd get my body back, that was enough.

For someone who has always been pretty ambitious and needs routine to keep busy, this was catastrophic. If I wasn't highly doped up on pain meds, I was laying wide-awake thinking about all the things I couldn't do with a post-operated limb. Honestly, it was very depressing. I had (literally) already cried a river after surgery because the nerve blockers weren't strong enough O.0 ... and that left me with no tears for a mental breakdown.

**SPOILER ALERT: the event of my injury hurt WAY less than getting out of surgery**

A flood of victimizing thoughts filled my head, and you'd think that at least it'd be comforting to release that energy...but rather, it made me feel worse. I had to change my thinking...and fast. I remembered that first second I laid down court-side with my left leg elevated on the bench, wondering why I couldn't feel any pain (yet). With a bite of my lip and determined squint of the eyes I whispered to myself, "I'll be back. I don't care what it takes - just get yourself back". So here I am, less than a year later...

Back and ready to fight!