Love, Fun, and Being a Grown Up

I am having an insanely indulgent Sunday morning. It is 9:43 in the morning and I am still in bed in my boxers and beater. I'm drinking coffee, snuggling dogs (ok, praying to Jesus for patience about the little Jack Russell), looking for new Paleo recipes, talking with the boy and keeping an eye on the Food Network. Usually, I am up by now making some kind of Paleo Sunday brunch or contemplating a run of a few miles for enjoyment, not for training.

To be honest, a lot of my indulgence is a wee bit forced. I am on the DL. No not on the 'down low' hoping that no one finds out I like girls... I am on the disabled list... big time. I have been away from my box (what crossfitters call their gym spaces...they are little more than boxes with some heavy stuff, and pull up bars) for 3 months now. In January, my doc thought I was battling IT band issues and we treated accordingly. I was allowed to back to crossfit if I took it easy on the squats (to which I replied..."dude. do you know what crossfit is???") and went easy on the weight. The next monday I had this WOD:

5 rounds each:
30 kettlebell swings (I loooooooove swings)
30 burpees
30 situps

My time on this workout should have been around 20 minutes. My coach told me to cut the burpees down to 10 because I was slow getting up and down due to my hip. Even with this cut, my time was almost 25 minutes and by round 3 I was doing my sit ups with my right leg straight out (instead of with my feet together and my legs in a diamond shape).

And I hurt. A lot. I typically rate my pain in PT as a 3 or 4 because really... I have no idea what to rate it. I figure a ten is getting it blown off in a James Bond-esque adventure...so when I found myself limping and holding up some bricks instead of walking around talking to kids at lunch duty because I want to rest my hip I guessed that must be a pain level of 4. My physical therapist told me (what he does to me makes him break a sweat) that he thinks my 3 is a 7 for someone else. After the WOD above....I gave myself a 6 or 7.

My therapist did a whole bunch of therapist stuff and after discussing my symptoms with another therapist in the office they decided it was very possible I had a labral tear. A tear in my hip cartilage. In the meantime, I could do no things. I had a very fun MRI where they injected dye into my hip. The results came in no visible tear. My words to my doc were, "shit. now what?" Because while I wasn't jumping up and down over the idea of surgery...it was a fix. This was near the end of January. They weren't sure what to do, so they schedule me for some Active Release Therapy. All I will say about that is that on the pain scale, it came in just under my James Bond 10. And come March, I wasn't any better.

2 days a week in therapy, 2 days a week in ART I am not better. I think it hurts worse. Awesome. Finally, after talking with my therapist about this we discussed how they were totally stumped because every one of my symptoms presents itself like a labral tear. So finally this discussion occurred:

Me: Is there anyway that they could have misread my orthogram?
Him: (red in the face and visibly uncomfortable) did anyone show you your lab report?
Me: No. They just said my hip looked good.
Him: The dye leaked out before the orthrogram. If you have tear...it could have leaked out of that.
Me: (head spins off shoulders)

A lot of other talking happened. I've got the name of one of the best surgeons in the country who happens to be at OSU. However, I need to use kid gloves when I meet with my doc. because this therapist really put his butt on the line for me and I do not want to get him into trouble. But the bottom line is that the odds are stacked in favor of this injury being a tear that didn't show up because the dye leaked out. If you can figure out a reason why no one mentioned this shit to me, I'd love to hear it. The first time I was bracing myself up for surgery, my thinking was that at least it was in the winter, at least I caught it soon, I'd get back quickly, at least I'd be back by summer. Now, its looking like I'll spend my summer on crutches and I will spend at least 6 months total on the DL. A year and a half of building strength, muscles, form. A year and a half of training for my Level 2 Krav test (which would have been this Friday). A dead lift that my coach was commenting on...."your dead lift is getting pretty heavy isn't it??" *i could have kissed her!!* Thousands of pullups, situps, squats and lunges. Overhead squats where I went down and couldn't get back up. More blisters and ripped callouses than I can count. Bruises, shiners, knees to the chin. Gone.

I gave myself a weekend to be sad, to self medicate with non paleo meds like Cadbury eggs and a Shamrock Shake. I'm paying for that poision and have learned my damn lesson. Ugh... But today I'm back to myself. I am grateful for my paleo lifestyle. Considering I went from 4 crossfit workouts a week (and a couple Krav Maga classes and a run or two and a yoga session or two) to nothing. I'm even having a difficult time walking my dogs a couple of days a week slowly for a half hour at a time... I have lost a few pounds (muscle I'm sure...but my clothes fit about the same). I have had a couple of pity party wagon falls, but mostly I'm trying to eat clean so that when I come back, I can hit it hard and get my strength back soon.

Because my fun...is my sports. I love the people at my box. When I first started crossfit, the way the people who were finished working out would gather around those still battling their WOD and cheer totally freaked me out. I would think, "holy shit. are they being supportive of the lame-o?... like, 'isn't that sweet that she's trying so hard?'" On top of that I do NOT like to draw a lot of attention to myself. I just wished everyone would leave me alone and let me try not to puke/die in peace. And then I realized...this is just how cool the crossfit community is. No matter if you can do a workout beyond RX, at RX or modified.... before a WOD, we are all nervous, when the WOD is posted, we all think, "shit this is going to suck," during the WOD, we don't think anything besides 'try not to die' and 'only this many more,' and when its over, we all think "that sucked...but it was sort of awesome." When your partners cheer for you, they mean it. You ARE doing awesome. You CAN do it. All they want to do is be a part of your effort as soon as they get their breath back.

A few weeks ago, I went to the Arnold Classic to watch one of my coaches compete. I saw Arnold and the Hulk. But you almost couldn't tear me away from the crossifit competition (you can see my coaches judging and competing in this video... bad ass female doing pullups....is my coach who competed) I love this community I have found. I love this sport. I love the way we eat in my house. I am accountable and responsible for what goes in my mouth and where it comes from. I love what my body can do when I'm healthy. And considering that if this injury is the labral tear has been an injury for years... I am excited to see what I'll be able to do when it is fixed.

So I've given myself a weekend to mourn the wasted 3 months. To dread what may be coming. And now that's over. I'm going to be a grown up and look forward to the fun, sweat, and friendship that is coming to a box near me when I get past this.



A typical WOD



Some of the kick ass females I work out with while we rest after the 2nd WOD of the day at the OKM crossfit games this summer.



Me, trying not to die after my 3rd WOD of the day at the games this summer. At some point in this day, I wondered what kind of dysfunction I must have to love this so much. I was dog tired and almost cried when they had me compete in the finals (a 4th WOD), but I was having a ball!