Learning How to Finally get Out of my Own Way!

Athlete: noun

a person trained or gifted in exercises or contests involving physical agility, stamina, or strength; a participant in a sport, exercise, or game requiring physical skill. 

At the age of 17 my whole world revolved around being an athlete. Although I wasn't playing any organized sports for Whitmer (that is a whole different post subject), I still extremely enjoyed doing physical activity. I was on a co-ed softball team, an all girls softball team, taught sports at the local YMCA, and lifted weights once or twice a week. Our whole family life was centered around physical activity. So when the accident happened it was more than just adjusting to a new life but also completely redefining who I was. At first I never thought I would ever be able to do athletics again. For obvious reasons it wasn't the focus of my attention at first, that is redefining my athletic self. I was more focused on living and not to mention to loads of drama that was a daily battle. Although, the last couple of years my competitive heart has been screaming for it's turn of attention. In other words I couldn't ignore the little voice in the back of mind begging for physical activity anymore. Sure I was in therapy and that helped ease the torture of not being able to play the sports I used to the way I used to. 

I know there is a whole world of wheelchair sports and that they are just as exhilarating as able bodied sports. I have always been open to trying them or at least I thought I was until a few years ago. Somehow trying wheelchair sports had become this ugly thing of fear. I had pushed it off for years because I was busy dealing with other problems that by the time I realized how much I missed sports I had this road block of fear. All of the sudden I didn't want to try wheelchair basketball in fear of being "bad", I didn't handcycle because it wasn't as easy as riding a bike was, and I hadn't gone to the gym (without a trainer) because I was a afraid of making a fool of myself. So I continued to put off any part of physical activity outside of therapy. Claiming that I was just to busy but really I just didn't want to put the effort into healing that part of my heart. It felt like suffering in silence about it was easier. Well for those who have ever had to address heart issues like these you will know that for 1. your heart will never let you get away with ignoring it and 2. God will allow you to avoid it for so long before causing a perfect setting of gently forcing you into facing the issue. And I can safely say God and my heart gave me a swift kick in the ass last April on no longer avoiding my athletic self. 

As some may remember April is when I stopped going to therapy. Which now meant I was doing zero physical activity besides wheeling myself around. I let myself sink into a bit of depression and began to eat whatever I wanted. After a month I started riding my handcycle around the bike trail and was really enjoying it but it was causing some serious shoulder problems. So I was forced to stop riding. Also wasn't till recently I noticed that I have gained some weight. This made me face the one thing I was putting off. It was time for me to get my tush back into the gym. I can never say I loved going to the gym but I did love the feeling after a great workout. So with the support of my mom I put my big girl pants on and went to the gym. And guess what?! I didn't make a fool of myself, no one laughed at me, and none of the catastrophic events I assumed would happen when I wheeled back into the gym. It was just like before, I was just another person on a mission for health. 

I have been back at for about 2 weeks now and although there has been some growing pains of figuring out what exercising in a chair is like. Like trying to balance not lifting too much weight (and bulking up, not ideal for a girl), plus not wanting to working out my arms every single day. It is slowly working out and I really am happy that I finally got myself back to myself a little more since the accident.

For those who are curious. This is where I am working out and they have accessible equipment!

Quickly my point is to anyone who is struggling with putting themselves out there/being true to who they are. I know this example is small but it is a lesson I have had to learn over and over again since being paralyzed. Very few times can I say that I got burned putting myself out there, even though if I was burned it was still an experience that I learned and grew from. Don't be afraid to fail because even in failure there is still a lesson to be learned. Whether we want to learn that lesson or not. And I can say most times I have been dragged through a lesson kicking and screaming but it was always for the better.