My bones literally and figuratively cracked under the pressure
I rounded the corner of the half mile loop with which I had become so familiar throughout my high school cross country years, and I noticed a subtle ache throughout my lower leg, radiating with each step. It was the pure determination of having a good junior year telling my legs they were capable of such speed. With optimistic thoughts and a single deep breath, I put one foot in front of the other and continued running. It appeared as though my brain was conflicted, wanting so badly to stop, yet even more to keep going. Up the steep hill, my arms swung hard to compensate for the inability to control the way my legs were working. Running causes aches and pains, but this time my eyes jolted shut with every step, and my teeth clenched to avoid letting any words of pain escape. After a seemingly endless amount of time I realized the pain was intensifying - its goal to make me miserable. I finished that segment but couldn’t start running again. I tried to calmly walk over to my coach but my leg didn’t quite enjoy that either. After a few tears, I described the pain and he gave me a look of sympathy. He knew I’d been in this situation before.
Upon seeing a cloud of white attacking my shin on the X-ray, I didn’t need the doctors to explain. It was a stress fracture. They prescribed six weeks without running, but with four stress fractures in three years- I knew the drill. Season after season I got my hopes up only to have my bones literally and figuratively crack under the pressure.
Through the devastation of each stress fracture, I have learned incredible amounts about myself and my running. My first stress fracture taught me to be thankful for running when I can, and gave me a greater appreciation for my sport. After my second stress fracture, I learned that I have to be more careful and monitor my body and training. With that knowledge I was more cautious the next season. As my third stress fracture occurred, and the doctors called me “unlucky”, I learned that life is truly unfair. I wanted more than anything to hate the sport, but I couldn’t. So instead, I hated my body. Why wasn’t I like the other girls? Why did my body betray me? Why was I so weak? Year after year, I sat on the sidelines at state, watching my teammates and listening to parents tell me “Next year will be your year!” Yet, after this stress fracture I stopped believing them. I struggled with my mindset and wanted so badly to have the opportunity it seemed like everyone else had. I was still struggling with my mentality going into the next year, and when I once again got another stress fracture, I was devastated. I now know my running doesn’t define me, but when I was first diagnosed with my fourth stress fracture, I felt that I had failed. Hoping to run collegiately, I thought I needed a good junior year for that to happen. I felt like less of a person because of my injury. “Persistent” “Inspiring” and “Strong” were all words I had heard throughout my journey of recovery, but each stress fracture made me feel weaker and weaker. I struggled with this mindset for quite some time, until I was able to recognize that success is not just about race results. I did not fail because I had to miss the important meets due to injury. I learned that I succeeded because I had passion, I had teammates who doubled as best friends, and I had a new perspective. I am a runner, but I am more than a runner. I am a friend, I am a sister, I am a human. My physical health is more important than race times, and my mental health is more important than race times. After gaining this knowledge, I now can run happily with the knowledge that no matter happens I’ll always have miles to go, on and off the course.
- Holly Nusser ( @hollynusser )
