Power Restored

“When you can’t control what’s happening, challenge yourself to control the way you respond to what’s happening. That’s where your power is.” ~unknown

Two weeks ago when my doctor told me I cannot return to work for another three months, I was initially devastated. Three more months on top of the four months I’ve already been off work is an awfully long time, and I would desperately like to reclaim some semblance of normalcy in my life once more. But the feeling of devastation didn’t last too long. In fact, I think I actually felt relief in knowing that I’d be home for three more months, because the lengthy extension means I no longer need to jump through the hoops of filling out forms every four weeks and anxiously waiting to hear whether or not I’d be allowed to return to work this time. Yes, I’d rather be back at work; however, the three month leave-extension has reduced my stress-load.

Back in December when both my chiropractor and physiotherapist were recommending I ask my doctor for a surgical referral, the very idea that my injury might require surgery was stressful. Despite my reaction to that idea, I was willing to ask my doctor, understanding the pros and cons and state of my body, and so, I was frustrated and disappointed when my doctor refused to refer me to a neurosurgeon. The fact that my doctor held all the power in this situation involving my health and well-being only fueled my frustration. Now that my doctor has finally decided a surgical referral is warranted, the frustration continues. He could have started this ball rolling months ago. Instead, I am still waiting. Still suffering. Once this ordeal is finally over, I will seek out a new doctor. In the meantime, I am choosing to be thankful that I do have a referral now. The projected timeline for an appointment is sometime in May, but I have asked to be put on the cancellation list and will check in (code for nagging) as often as I can work up the courage to pretend I’m that type of person. Mostly, I just feel relieved that something proactive is now on the table.

With the exception of a few days and weeks here and there, I have managed to continue going to the gym since my injury, and that has also been a source of frustration as I haven’t been able to do the type of training that I enjoy. I have had to let go of any goals or hopes of competing this year and for as long as it takes to heal. It’s been disappointing and hard to watch some of those goals crumble into dust, knowing how hard and long I have worked to reach them. Although I aim to workout at the gym three times a week, I usually do so in varying degrees of pain and discomfort. I do safe and essentially simple exercises that won’t inflict more harm on my back. For a long time, my limitations chafed. Okay, so they still do, but I also hurt enough and for long enough now to know that this is all that I can do right now. At least I can still do something! I never used to have a tough time getting myself to the gym, not until this injury, and there are days where I have to skip an exercise that is causing more pain. I’m listening to my body. I’m staying as active as I can with pain in my back and both legs and numbness in a foot and calf. Pre-injury, when I’d do heavy squats, the adrenaline would create little tremors in my hands. Now, it’s not adrenaline, and it’s not little tremors. My hands, my arms, my legs…they shake and sometimes violently, because of the pain and effort of holding myself together. But I’m not so frustrated in the gym anymore. I’ve known from the beginning that healing would take time, and now I have fully come to term with just how long that could be, even if there is no end in sight.

In the early days of injury, I thought I’d be better in a few weeks. A month after the injury when I finally agreed to take a medical leave, I thought I’d be back to work in 2-4 weeks. Late December I settled on my theme for 2018, choosing to make lemonade out of this lemon given to me. Since then I have gone through the gamut of emotions. Up, down. Angry, sad, relieved, even happy. I’ve been twisted inside-out, been hung out to dry, wallowed in misery, and broken fingernails clawing my way back out. It’s one thing to make a statement of making lemonade, but the practice of doing it isn’t always so simple or easy. But it isn’t impossible. I think I am finally, or mostly, at a place of peace and acceptance with what has happened these past five months and what is yet to come. This is probably the first time since the injury that I actually feel in control, not of what has happened or will happen, but in how I respond.


The Olympics

I was in the midst of making dinner when Olympic TV coverage began afresh for the day. Before today’s events began, the TV station began with replaying events that Canadians might have missed while sleeping last night. Even though I already knew the results, I often found myself dashing from the kitchen to the living room to watch the action. I cheered on Ted-Jan Bloemen as he set an Olympic record on his way to winning gold in the 10K speed skating race, and I cried. I watched our luge athletes win a silver medal in the team relay, choking back emotion with every run and breaking into tears as I watched their reaction to the speed of their final run. Olympic season is a weepy one for me. I told my daughter that there should be certain restrictions to what can be shown on the television during the Olympics:

  1. The only commercials allowed should be boring and completely product focused, like for feminine hygiene products or dish soap.
  2. No features on athletes. No mention of their families. No mention of the injuries or hardships overcome to get to the Games.
  3. No camera shots of coaches or teammates reacting to a performance or finish.

If you eliminated all those things from the Olympic coverage, then I wouldn’t be a puddle of tears and choked up emotion all the time. Of course, I absolutely love all of those aspects of the Olympic and would not truly want to see them disappear. Listening to the athlete stories though is inspiring and motivating at any time but especially during a season of injury and struggle. My situation is not even close to being on the same level as that of a world-class athlete; I know it and would never presume otherwise.

Still, there are themes and stories worth listening to, sifting through the choreographed emotional tugs to find the little golden nuggets that you can use to change your own fortunes. I won’t ever win an Olympic medal. I might never set another World record. While I am hopeful to compete again someday, I don’t know when that will be or even if it will be. The past 3.5 months have been an entirely new and unexpected experience for me, and the fact that healing has no clear time frame chafes against my yearnings to get out and do something. I have improved so much since herniating my disc, but that doesn’t mean things are perfect or where I’d like them to be. Some days are frustrating. Some are painful and achy. My ability to sleep well has been severely impaired for 3.5 months. Emotions have been down, up, and everywhere in-between. This injury has created disappointment in being unable to compete at Nationals which begin next week. I’m not an Olympic athlete, but I am still someone with hopes, goals, and dreams.

Healing is a day by day thing rather than an overnight occurrence. Healing well requires patience, determination, hard work, and slogging through the rough, dark patches. It would be easy and simply to say that this injury will define me forever, that I will never compete again or even enjoy ordinary activities again. I’d like to believe that I am not that sort of person, but that doesn’t mean I won’t have mental and emotional struggles through the journey.

The good news is that the truly stormy days seem to be well in the past now. I feel as if, figuratively, my broken pieces are being crazy glued together, piece by piece. Oddly enough, I am finding some enjoyment in my rehab focused training, and I am encouraged at every little weight increase or extra rep performed. Tomorrow I am looking forward to trying a bit of an arch on my bench press with a change in foot position…and a little nervous. Nervous because I’ve not benched with an arch since hurting my back. I haven’t benched using my legs since hurting my back. Nervous because I still have varying degrees of aches and pain in my back and legs. Good days. Bad days. Okayish days. Head games and a sometimes uncooperative body. Fun times!

I am not an Olympic athlete, but I have the ability to write my own story and I want to make it a good one. I can set my sights on the future and strive to come back to the platform. It won’t be easy. Hard work will be required. There will most likely be more ups and downs and things that go completely sideways, but all I have to do is continue to pick myself back up and refocus. Goals and destinations sometimes need to change, but sometimes the journey (and the attitude along the way) is of more importance than actually reaching a goal. The Olympics are an emotional catalyst to dig deep, to keep going, and to push a little bit harder to get a little bit further.

Smashing Lemons

I spent some time this afternoon writing in my paper journal, catching up on the past 2 months or so since I last wrote in its pages. Part of catching up involved casting my glance 3 weeks from now to the Canadian Powerlifting Union’s National Championships in Calgary. I had intended on being there to compete. This had been my goal since 2015, and I worked hard to check off the prerequisites necessary to get me there. Herniating my disc changed the course of this part of my journey. Instead of heading to Calgary in a few weeks, I will be freshly back to work after a 2.5 month medical leave of absence. I made peace with not being able to take part in Nationals a long time ago, because there wasn’t really any other choice. There is no way that I could have been physically healthy enough to compete, and so I also had to accept that I cannot foresee when I will be able to compete again.

Knowing the reality of my situation and the unpredictability of recovery, I can only look at future competitions with a dispassionate eye. However, as I was writing this afternoon, I found myself revisiting my ultimate goal of competing at Nationals. Not for this year…obviously! But not making it this year will place me nearly all the way back at square one. Those prerequisites I checked off over the past two years will need to be checked off again.

  1. compete at BCPA event and obtain a qualifying Wilks total for Provincials
  2. compete at Provincials and obtain a qualifying Wilks total for Westerns
  3. compete at Westerns and obtain a qualifying Wilks total for Nationals

Qualifying totals must be achieved within 24 months of a Championship event, which means that the total that qualified me for Nationals will “expire” in August of this year. While I think my last BCPA total might be good enough to qualify me for Westerns this year, I would still need to compete at Provincials in June. It would be lovely to compete in June; however, I do not know if that will even be physically possible. No matter how much I want to return to powerlifting, I am not in a rush to do so at the sake of my health. So if I don’t compete at Provincials, then there will definitely not be a trip to Westerns this year, which also means that there will not be a trip to Nationals in 2019. As I wrote, I realized that the earliest I could possibly get to Nationals will be 2020…two full years from now!

Seeing all the steps and timeline laid out is rather depressing. I understand why the prerequisites exist and have no issues there; it is just frustrating to see all my hard work evaporate in an instant and to see how long it can take to get back to where I was. It is in that knowledge where the sourness of the lemon puckers and stings. I’m not sure there is enough sugar to make that lemonade drinkable. It sucks and I’d much rather throw that lemon into a brick wall with as much force as I could muster.




8. What’s one thing that changed about yourself?

The fact that we can change is wonderful. There’s freedom in knowing we’re not obligated to be who we always were. We can explore our limits and live in new ways when we want to.

Change is something that I am reasonably familiar with and often embrace. My entire journey has been about change…changing attitudes, self-perception, confidence, habits. Becoming Angela is about change. So, what is one thing that has changed about myself this year? All of the above.

I’d like to think that I became stronger this year.

Gains in physical strength may be questionable. My ability to adequately train was hampered for most of the first half of the year. My results at my last competition would indicate that I had at least regained my strength to the same level as it had been at the end of last year.

The real change, I think, has been in personal, inner strength. I’ve had a few challenges this year, although the weight of them is measured only by my own scale. My response hasn’t always been great, but I always manage to regain my bearings and grow through the struggle.


7. What was your biggest regret and why?

We’re not perfect and we all make mistakes. It’s an uncomfortable truth we don’t like to think about. But facing our failures helps us in positive ways. When we admit and accept our mistakes, we grow. And best of all, we’re less likely to repeat them.

As far as regrets go, I don’t think I have actually held on to very many this year. There have been regrets, of course, like the loss of a friendship. That regret is for the loss rather than a failure or mistake on my part. Despite what the other party might say about the situation, I know that I did nothing wrong. I can mourn the loss of the relationship while not carrying the weight of regret over someone’s decision.

I would have preferred to have not herniated a disc, but it happened. Although it happened at a competition, I don’t regret my training or competing. I don’t regret the efforts it took to break all of those records that day and to set a couple of personal bests. I wish the injury hadn’t happened, but I think I am at the point where I can honestly say that I don’t regret it happening at all. The injury didn’t happen because of a personal failure. It just happened, and I am choosing to embrace it rather than continuing to wallow in misery over it.

I know that I am far from perfect, and I am more than willing to admit my faults. A year is a long time and memories tend to jumble together until the images are distorted. Smaller mistakes and regrets are most likely there, swirling among the debris, but I cannot pull many out for full examination.

However, there is one thing that I do regret and it is an action that I take sole responsibility for. In January, I thought it would be fun to see how long I could sit in a body weight squat. I stopped after 5 minutes, impressed with myself. Everything was fine until about a week later. All of a sudden my lower back hurt while squatting when I had never had back pain while training before. It turned out that my 5 minute squat had made my SI joints quite angry, and thus began many months of pain and suffering. I do regret that, but I learned a lesson. Do not sit in a body weight squat for a long period of time! Through the months of struggles, I was forced to learn other lessons that I might have preferred to avoid if given the chance, but I know I came out of those struggles stronger.



The third question on the list for ending your year intentionally is:

What or who is the one thing or person you’re grateful for?

Regardless of what my year has looked like or how I feel about it, I am always grateful for the people in my life and I have long been in the habit of expressing gratitude for things, big and small, on a daily basis. Thankfulness is part of who I am, and I could go on for days expressing all that I am grateful for over the course of the year.

To choose one thing or person is a difficult task, so I am going to approach it as a group result. Have you ever watched a boxing match? When the bell rings to signal the end of a round, the boxers go to their corners where they are tended to, coached, supported and encouraged. Cuts are tended. Sweat is wiped away. Water is provided. The boxer has people in his corner. I am not a boxer, but I know what it is like to have that kind of support and I am grateful for all of it.

1. My husband! He lets me do all these crazy things and willingly spends countless hours at my competition, most of which is just waiting for my turn to lift. He cheers me on, encourages me, and takes video for me. He has been at 8 of my 9 competitions, missing out on one only because he was still recovering from hip replacement surgery. It was odd not having him at Provincials this year, and I know that I felt the loss of emotional support when that competition didn’t go as well as I had hoped. I am glad that he was there at my most recent competition. When I broke the World record for my squat and emotion was bursting out of me, being wrapped in his arms was a wonderful feeling. Now that I am injured, he is still supportive. He encourages me when I feel troubled by worry and despair. He has my back. He loves me.

2. My chiropractor! I visit my chiropractor with some regularity as I put my body through a lot. He helps keep my body functioning as well as it possibly can, but he doesn’t just twist and crunch me. He seldom fixes me up without also giving me practical skills and advice to help keep my body working well. On occasion, I am also blessed to receive words of wisdom or encouragement that nourish my spirit and soul. In my eyes, my chiropractor is more than just a health care professional…he’s also a friend.

3. My coach! Perhaps coach should really be coaches, since I have had two different coaches this year. My previous coach got me started in powerlifting and played a big role in my journey. Even though he is no longer my coach, I cannot discount his part in my story.

My current coach and I are still in the learning each other stage, I think, but I have already experienced good things under his programming. Although I no longer have the direct, real-time contact with a coach while training, I still feel supported, encouraged, and challenged by my new coach. When I started with him this summer, I was recovering from another problem with my back or SI joints and hadn’t been in powerlifter mode for several weeks. I had the November competition on the horizon, and my coach took me through training on a level I had never done before…and it worked. I could hear his encouraging comments as I was on the platform. My injury has changed the nature of my training again, but I know my coach has my back!

4. My friend Sienna! For my competition in November, I needed a handler. This was only the second time that I have needed to find someone to help me out at a competition, because that role was usually covered by my coach. My daughter was my handler at Westerns last year, and my friend was my handler this time. She was probably quite nervous, uncertain as to what to do to support me, but I think she did a great job. I have competed enough that I know what I need to do and when to do it, but it is always nice to have someone there to chalk the back, offer encouragement, and remind you what you’re capable of.

5. My physiotherapist! This is a recent addition to my support crew thanks to my injury, but I feel confident in his abilities and treatment. I tend to be highly cynical when it comes to doctors and many aspects of “health care”, so I am always grateful to find medical professionals who are not stuck on out-dated methods and systems.

6. My friends, co-workers, and family! These people have cheered me on every step of the way, through thick and thin, weight cuts and water loads, disappointments and frustrations, sore muscles and all my back struggles. When I’ve had success, they’ve celebrated with me.



Continuing the end of year reflection theme from No Side Bar that I began in yesterday’s blog post …

2. What did you enjoy doing this year?

2017 has been a difficult year for me in so many ways. What did I enjoy doing this year? That’s a question that requires grinding mental gears and peering deeply into the dark corners of my memories.

Yesterday I mentioned celebrating my 25th anniversary with my husband, and our little celebratory holiday was definitely something I enjoyed doing.

My most recent powerlifting competition was also highly enjoyable.

This summer when I changed my gym and my coach, I stepped out of my comfort zone into unfamiliar and potentially scary territory. I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know if I would thrive or even like what I was doing. As an introvert, it is not easy for me to dive into the unfamiliar or place my trust in someone I don’t know and doesn’t know me. At the time of the coaching change, I had already been through months of struggles with my SI joints and low back and a disappointing competition. My confidence in my ability to overcome those struggles and regain strength was a little shaky. Despite my struggles, doubts, and nerves, I can honestly say that I have enjoyed the change and the process.

It wasn’t easy to step into the unknown like that, but a small part of me was glad for the challenge. My doubts and fears resurfaced every week as I would receive my new program, yet a part of my spirit soared at the prospect of squashing those doubts. In the gym as I put in the work, the load sometimes felt heavy and hard, but I did it and I took joy in the results. Those months of uncertainty and challenge were enjoyable! It sounds odd to say that, but it is true. I enjoyed it, because I grew through the challenges instead of being destroyed by them.

This year I have also found enjoyment in the company of family and friends. Celebrating birthdays. Family holiday gatherings. Graduation. Escape room success. Celebrating successes. Cards. Texts. Notes. Christmas bake day with girlfriends. Grey Cup party. Homemade gelato. An impromptu dinner out with friends. Musical theatre. A heart-to-heart over wine with a best friend. Many of these instances are of little consequence in the grand scheme of a year. As a lover of words and authentic relationships, these small instances add up to a whole lot of love and affirmation.