Advertisement for CrossFit

 It was three years ago yesterday when I was allowed to walk around the world without continuing to wear a brace which kept my neck and torso from twisting. In other words, three years ago, I got out of the turtle shell. 

PT in the turtle shell three years ago

One of the computer algorithms reminded me of that anniversary while I was working out yesterday. When I checked my phone after the workout, I saw the reminder - so I scrolled back to a few days prior to that anniversary in my photos, and found one of me doing a workout (aka, outpatient Physical Therapy) while I was still in the turtle shell. 

Being reminded just after a workout yesterday of where I was three years ago felt like a pretty good advertisement for CrossFit, especially because the post-workout conversation I was involved in had us looking up best times for one of the named CrossFit workouts (Nancy, if you’re curious - my best time is 15:07). 

At a competition six years ago

I was fitter before the accident than I am now. I was stronger, faster, more mobile, more agile, and generally more capable. And the fact that I was relatively fit is likely a significant reason that I’m currently not either in a wheelchair or walking with crutches. 

Part of the reason that I can move around as much as I can now is luck. If my spinal cord injury had been complete, I’d be in a wheelchair no matter how fit I would have been before. But my spinal cord injury was incomplete, which means that I did not lose all sensation and muscle control. So I’m lucky because my injury could have been more significant. 

And also, part of the reason I can move around as much as I can now is because I had spent seven years working out in a CrossFit gym trying hard to improve my fitness - strength and mobility and agility and capability and persistence and resilience. 

I believe that the fact that I’m able to walk without assistance, that I’m able to move around the world in a way such that most people likely wouldn’t notice that I have a physio-neurological impairment, is (I believe) a huge nod to the effectiveness of CrossFit. 

$0.02

God is Good?

 "God is Good", he said to me. We had talked very briefly about the accident a few years ago; I had mentioned that even though I currently have some mobility limitations and some muscles that don't work like they're supposed to, I had started recovery in a wheelchair. 

"God is Good" was the reply. 

While I certainly believe that statement to be true, I find the context to be problematic. I don't remember much about the time I was in the ICU, but I do remember the doctors and nurses asking me to squeeze their fingers with my hand, to push down and pull up with my toes. I vaguely remember unsuccessfully willing those squeezing and pushing and pulling muscles to work. 

At that moment, I had use of my left hand; my right arm and both legs didn't work. It was a significant and real possibility that I was facing the prospect of learning how to move through the world in a wheelchair. 

What if I hadn't regained my ability to walk? What if my right arm was still useless, and I'd'a had to learn to be left-handed? Is God still good? 

I absolutely do feel fortunate that I've regained as much mobility as I have. I absolutely do believe that God is good. I don't necessarily believe that those two things are directly related to one another. I can't believe in a God whose benevolence is so directly tied to one individual's physical mobility. 

Almost Three Years

It’s been almost three years since I broke myself on the side of a mountain. We’re gonna spend the anniversary day tomorrow skiing with family and friends. 

That'd be a nice line to ski

From early on after the accident, people have asked when I’ll be fully recovered; or they ask if I have fully recovered. Early on, I started answering those and similar questions by saying that I’ll never be fully recovered; that I’ll always experience some lingering effects from the accident and spinal cord injury. 

I might be starting to believe that myself. 

Because while I continue to make improvements, those have become much more subtle - the kind of thing someone else would never notice. For instance, recently I’ve been able to stand up from the couch without pushing up quite so much with my arms. And I’ve been able to engage my hamstring a tiny bit more so that I don’t drag my foot quite as much when I get out of the car. 

I might be starting to believe that I’ll never recover fully. But it continues to be really interesting (and sometimes pretty frustrating) to experience life through a new body that all of a sudden (three years ago) didn’t work the same way it used to. 

Regardless, we’re gonna have a good day celebrating the three year anniversary of Not Dead Yet Day.

I Used To Move Like That: A Minor Lament

Last week we tried to summit a 14er - Mt. Princeton, which is known for the standard route to the summit crossing a long stretch of talus slope. Hiking across boulders is slower going than walking on a dirt-surface trail. 

My balance since I broke myself isn’t as good as it used to be; the control I have over the muscles in my leg is reduced compared to before I broke myself; every time I take a step, I place my foot carefully (and that goes for walking down a sidewalk … it’s a much more significant mental endeavor on uneven surfaces). 

On the way down, after we took in the gorgeous view, I was making my way very slowly and carefully across the talus slope. We paused for a moment to let another hiker pass us. After we shared polite pleasantries, he continued on his way. I watched him move quickly across the talus, and I remembered a hike we took a couple years ago. 

On that other hike a couple years ago, I was also passed by a guy who was moving quickly and smoothly down the trail. In my memory, he was carrying a small child in a backpack as he moved swiftly and smoothly down the trail. 

The guy on Mt. Princeton reminded me of the guy a couple years ago. Both of them moved smoothly, both of them moved quickly, and neither of them looked like they were rushing. 

I used to move like that.

My Butt's Sore

While I was an inpatient at Craig Hospital a couple years ago, my physical therapist spent a lot of time poking me in the butt. I remembered that little factoid because right this minute, my butt hurts in exactly that same spot where she used to poke me.

Lemme share a little more context. When I was at Craig, I was mostly getting around in a wheelchair because I couldn’t walk. But I had at least the potential for enough muscle function to be able to, so I spent a bunch of my time at Craig learning how to walk again. My physical therapist watched me closely and realized that the glute muscles weren’t firing the way they should have been, so she kept poking me in the butt as a way to remind me to remind those muscles to start working again.

Fast forward to today. About a week ago, I joined a CrossFit gym. Before I broke myself, I spent seven years working out at a CrossFit gym – so I’m excited to be back at it. Now in a CrossFit gym, the workout is different every day. Some days you get to do the things that you like and are good at – some days you get to do the things that aren’t your favorite and that are not your strengths. Some days the workouts are like what you’d do at home; some days the workouts include things that you wouldn’t choose to do on your own.

Today’s workout included running. Since I was discharged from Craig, I’ve done virtually no running except just a little bit here and there. But the gym had programmed running today in distances that I knew would be hard for me, but that I knew I could be successful at. So I did the workout. And almost immediately I was sore. You know, in that way where you know you used your muscles. Specifically, the muscles in my butt were sore almost immediately.

Which reminded me of my physical therapist at Craig. Maybe I should let her know that I’m finally using that muscle. Or maybe not, because she’ll wonder why I didn’t start doing this kind of thing sooner.

Regardless, one of the things we’ve talked about in my household is that it’s entirely possible that I might still be mostly in a wheelchair if I hadn’t been able to do the initial part of my recovery at Craig Hospital. That place works magic with people who are recovering from spinal cord injuries and traumatic brain injuries.

In a few weeks, I’ll be riding Pedal 4 Possible, a fundraiser bike ride to support the work done at Craig to help folks be able to integrate into society in safe and healthy ways. I encourage you to either sign up for the ride, or to make a contribution.

My butt’s still sore … but I think I’m glad that it is.

Fundraiser

As most of my seven readers know, I broke myself a couple years ago. As I’ve noted in this space and elsewhere, I feel ridiculously lucky to be able to move around as well as I can. In fact, I probably move around well enough that if you didn’t know me before the accident, I’d guess that you’d have to watch carefully to see the comparative deficiency in movement that is part of my current reality. 

After the accident, I was in the ICU at our local hospital for about ten days. During that time, I hardly got out of bed - and when I did, it was an ordeal. When I moved from that hospital (where they took good care of me) to the spinal cord injury treatment department at Craig Hospital, I was able to get around some. But only in a motorized wheelchair. /

For better or worse, I was probably the only person who really didn’t contemplate the possibility that I might never walk again. I blame that lack of introspection partly on the mild traumatic brain injury, and partly on my own cluelessness. 

I know that I’m unimaginably lucky to have regained as much muscle control and mobility as I have. But I’m certain that I wouldn’t be moving around as much as I am now if I hadn’t spent most of the first couple months post-accident at Craig Hospital, where they know how to help folks with brain injuries and with spinal cord injuries achieve as much recovery and mobility and functionality as possible.  

Because I can, I’ll be riding in a fundraiser bike ride raising money to help support the life-giving work that Craig Hospital does. And serendipitously, this fundraiser ride will happen exactly two and a half years after I broke myself.

If you’d like to help me support this important work, you can do so at this fundraising page

I'm Out of Shape

I went for a bike ride a couple days ago, which is not necessarily an unusual event. That day, though, I was training for a fundraiser ride (raising money for MS research) that I’m doing in a couple weeks. By the end of the ride, I was way more worn out than I used to ever by after a bike ride. I ended up being almost completely useless for the rest of the day.

Here’s the thing. A couple of years ago, I wouldn’t have flinched if someone invited me at 6:00 am to go on a 100 mile bike ride starting at 7:00 am. And I would have been able to function fairly well after that ride. I’m starting to realize that I’m not currently in good enough shape to do that kinda thing. 

It’s humbling to realize that I’m not as capable physically as I was a couple years ago (which feels really recent). But then my social media feed reminded me that it was almost exactly two years ago to the day that I went on my first post-accident bike ride. So maybe I should cut myself a little slack?

The truth is that I regularly feel stuck between thinking I should already be in better shape and more capable than I am, and recognizing that there’s probably nothing wrong with the continued recovery process taking a little longer than I want it to. 

Of course, that doesn’t help me get in shape any more quickly; and it doesn’t push the date of the ride any further into the future. 

The getting in shape is for me to do. If you’d like to help, you’re welcome to make a contribution to the fundraising effort.