Since I first stepped onto the running scene, I have been told that there are only two kinds of distance runners: Those who have had an injury requiring them to take some time off, and those who will. Of course, I typically reside very happily in the state of Delusion where Denial is king and refusal to acknowledge problems is the main form of currency, so I always told myself that would only happen to other runners because I am obviously invincible. Sure, I had a few hiccups here and there with mild injuries and inconveniences, but nothing that prevented me from running long-term and nothing that didn't eventually work itself out with some rehab or go away on its own. So, when I started having lower back pain after the second week back to running, I thought very little of it. I assumed that, like most of my running-related issues, it was simply the result of muscles that were too tight. Still, wanting to be cautious coming back into what was supposed to be a breakthrough indoor season, I let my trainer know and we started doing treatment on it. A week later, when the pain hadn't eased, she had some concerns due to the fact that the pain was isolated on the bone, so we set up an appointment with the team doctor, who also wasn't thrilled about the location. One x-ray later, we discovered that I had an extra lumbar vertebrae, but still didn't see the cause of the pain, so I went in for an MRI. Following the MRI, I received the news that I have developed stress reactions in both pedicles of my L5 vertebrae. Essentially, the bone on both sides of my spinal cord in my lower back has been weakened by running, and any additional stress on it could cause it to fracture.
Needless to say, I was devastated by this news. It completely disrupted all of the plans I had dreamed up for the upcoming season, and took away for at least the next month the thing that I love doing most. For the time being, I am restricted to only activities that don't make my back hurt more and don't put it into extension even slightly-basically, I am allowed to stationary bike and do the back exercises prescribed by my trainer. I'm only a few days in currently, and it's been difficult mentally. Running is a very large part of who I am, and to have it taken away so suddenly was a shock to my system. However, I realize that this is not something that I can train through or ignore, no matter how much I would love to. Knowing that, I am choosing to, rather than being angry or depressed, focus on getting better as fast as I can, taking care of my body, and doing the things I can safely do to stay in shape as well as I can. I have come back from setbacks in my running career before, and I'm completely confident in my ability, with the help of my coaches and trainers, to do it again. My coach suggested that I write the word "Patience" everywhere that I can to remind myself of what will be most important in the process often, and although I find that to be extremely annoying, I know that it will be the biggest part of this journey for me. In the meantime, as I try to figure out this whole patience thing, any tips on dealing with cross training, advice on healthy snacks, good playlists, or amusing snapchats or calls during the time I'm isolated on the stationary bike would be greatly appreciated.
Tuesday, December 19, 2017
Monday, December 4, 2017
Get Born Again
My first season as a Utah State aggie is over, and with the end of the season comes the period of time where one typically reflects on how far they've come over the course of the season, the things they've accomplished, the things they've overcome, and the things they aim to achieve next. For me, the end of this season was a jumble of emotions, chief among them gratitude for the opportunity I've had to start anew with this wonderful team, coaches who care about me, and trainers who are there for me to help with any troubles I approach them with. This semester has been one of the happiest periods of my life. I've been surrounded by people who understand me like no one ever has before and granted a clean beginning. USU provided me with the resources I needed to travel and compete with a wonderful, driven team. I discovered a new passion in the field of psychology and was able to add it as a second major so I have the option to pursue that career if it is what I choose. At the same time, I have been working through a great deal of things, and it was something that was incredibly frustrating to me throughout the semester. I realized that there were residual pains that I still needed to work through from my time at MSU and that not all of my struggles would go away with the transfer, but I still found a great deal of difficulty dealing with the fact that I wasn't suddenly one hundred percent happy with my life. So, if you all don't mind, I'd love to share another piece of who I am with a group of friends and strangers on the internet.
I've posted before about my experience with mental health difficulties. During my two years at MSU, my mental health was often something that was blatantly neglected. I didn't feel comfortable reaching out to discuss it with many of the people in my life, so often I would simply pretend that nothing was going on beyond what I allowed the world to see. I had a few extremely traumatic experiences during my time in Bozeman that a select few friends and family members know about that I simply refused to acknowledge while there because I felt so isolated that I worried if I allowed myself to dwell on them, I would fall apart completely. I went to therapy once or twice, but I had very little trust for mental health professionals, and felt extremely uncomfortable talking to them about anything going on in my life. So, when I came to USU and found this amazing support system, some things that went unresolved for months or years began to surface as I felt more comfortable opening up to friends and trainers, and of course, the anxiety and depression didn't simply disappear because I was in a place that I loved with people I cared about.
As the season progressed, it became more and more clear that I needed to do something about my mental health. Although I was happier than I've ever been, I also had heightened levels of anxiety and depression that baffled me because I was simultaneously the most happy and the most anxious I have ever been. Though I had close friendships, I found that I was constantly worried that my mental health troubles would drive them away, a thought that made me more anxious, contributing even more to the thought that my anxiety would become too much of a burden. It was a pretty fun cycle. I constantly worried about letting down my teammates, coaches, and others that I cared about. Pre-nationals was a bit of a setback for me because I didn't finish exactly where I wanted to, so fears about disappointing people and doubts about my own abilities began to set in. The final straw for me, running, and my mental health was the conference meet. Although my time and place were not bad, necessarily, they did not meet the expectations I had set for myself and I had a complete breakdown. I felt that I had let down all of the people who were important to me, and that because I hadn't run well enough in my own opinion, I must not be worth caring about. During this period, I became completely convinced that I wouldn't ever be enough for anyone and that my mental health would always be a stumbling block that no one could ever overlook. As far as I was concerned, people dealt with me only out of social obligation and I was a burden to the people I cared about. The week following conference, I finally decided I needed to take steps to do something about my mental health, and paid a visit to the psychiatrist. We discussed my thought processes and the things I had been dealing with for the past few months and years, and he determined that I could benefit from the use of SSRIs in conjunction with therapy. I started on Prozac immediately, and shortly before regionals started coming down with migraines and extreme nausea. At regionals, I raced terribly and thought I had food poisoning, but discovered a few days later that it was, in fact, a side effect of Prozac. So, four days out from nationals, with the permission of my psychiatrist, I stopped taking it. Nationals was still an enjoyable experience being with my team, but it still wasn't the experience I felt it should have been, and that drove me to continue trying to improve my thought process and mental health. Following nationals, I started on Lexapro which thus far has had the combined positive effect of not making me wildly ill and being the same antidepressant that Kanye is on, which makes me feel weirdly superior because if Kanye can overcome things and start his own successful clothing line, make millions as a music artist, and marry Kim K while on Lexapro, I can certainly keep moving forward and make something of myself. Starting next week, I will be going to therapy, and I've actually committed to giving it an honest effort this time around. This is a journey that I know is far from over, but I'm reminding myself daily that I'm an independent bad bitch and I have a great deal of hope for what is coming.
Some days it feels like I've found some magical clarity, as if listening to FML by Kanye for the fifteenth time fixed everything and I am positively unstoppable, and some days it feels like I've taken a huge leap back. But I'm coming to the realization that no matter what happens, no matter how many times running breaks your heart and puts it back together again or someone challenges your worth or you make mistakes that seem catastrophic in the moment, there is always hope for the future. There will always be people who love you, not despite your shortcomings and the quirks in your brain chemistry, but because of who you are. For every good thing that you lose, another good thing will come along. Life just has a way of balancing itself out like that. And I am finally coming around to the realization that I am not defined by my disorders or by my sport. I am so much more than Alyssa Snyder the 10k runner with anxiety, I am Lyssa the human being who happens to enjoy running and the results that come from the miles and trials, who might have some struggles with mental health but is working to become so much more, who has an over-the-top love for cats, and who has some amazing friends and family who stand by me even when I'm absolutely on my bullshit.
For anyone out there who is having struggles of their own, just remember a few things while you're on your way to figuring things out:
-There's nothing wrong with you. You're not a broken person who needs fixing, you're a perfectly good person who's just been through a thing or two
-There is always someone out there to listen and understand when you feel like you have nobody. If you really feel like you have absolutely no one, slide into my dms and we can chat about what you're going through.
-There is nothing weak about seeking help. For the longest time, I didn't want to admit that I struggled with my mental health or allow others in the running community to know the extent to which it was a problem for me because I didn't want to be perceived as weak, broken, or crazy. You're not crazy, you just need a little hand getting all your ducks in a row.
-You are so much more than your disorders or your struggles, and you don't have to let them define you.
Now get out there and kick some ass, bbs.
I've posted before about my experience with mental health difficulties. During my two years at MSU, my mental health was often something that was blatantly neglected. I didn't feel comfortable reaching out to discuss it with many of the people in my life, so often I would simply pretend that nothing was going on beyond what I allowed the world to see. I had a few extremely traumatic experiences during my time in Bozeman that a select few friends and family members know about that I simply refused to acknowledge while there because I felt so isolated that I worried if I allowed myself to dwell on them, I would fall apart completely. I went to therapy once or twice, but I had very little trust for mental health professionals, and felt extremely uncomfortable talking to them about anything going on in my life. So, when I came to USU and found this amazing support system, some things that went unresolved for months or years began to surface as I felt more comfortable opening up to friends and trainers, and of course, the anxiety and depression didn't simply disappear because I was in a place that I loved with people I cared about.
As the season progressed, it became more and more clear that I needed to do something about my mental health. Although I was happier than I've ever been, I also had heightened levels of anxiety and depression that baffled me because I was simultaneously the most happy and the most anxious I have ever been. Though I had close friendships, I found that I was constantly worried that my mental health troubles would drive them away, a thought that made me more anxious, contributing even more to the thought that my anxiety would become too much of a burden. It was a pretty fun cycle. I constantly worried about letting down my teammates, coaches, and others that I cared about. Pre-nationals was a bit of a setback for me because I didn't finish exactly where I wanted to, so fears about disappointing people and doubts about my own abilities began to set in. The final straw for me, running, and my mental health was the conference meet. Although my time and place were not bad, necessarily, they did not meet the expectations I had set for myself and I had a complete breakdown. I felt that I had let down all of the people who were important to me, and that because I hadn't run well enough in my own opinion, I must not be worth caring about. During this period, I became completely convinced that I wouldn't ever be enough for anyone and that my mental health would always be a stumbling block that no one could ever overlook. As far as I was concerned, people dealt with me only out of social obligation and I was a burden to the people I cared about. The week following conference, I finally decided I needed to take steps to do something about my mental health, and paid a visit to the psychiatrist. We discussed my thought processes and the things I had been dealing with for the past few months and years, and he determined that I could benefit from the use of SSRIs in conjunction with therapy. I started on Prozac immediately, and shortly before regionals started coming down with migraines and extreme nausea. At regionals, I raced terribly and thought I had food poisoning, but discovered a few days later that it was, in fact, a side effect of Prozac. So, four days out from nationals, with the permission of my psychiatrist, I stopped taking it. Nationals was still an enjoyable experience being with my team, but it still wasn't the experience I felt it should have been, and that drove me to continue trying to improve my thought process and mental health. Following nationals, I started on Lexapro which thus far has had the combined positive effect of not making me wildly ill and being the same antidepressant that Kanye is on, which makes me feel weirdly superior because if Kanye can overcome things and start his own successful clothing line, make millions as a music artist, and marry Kim K while on Lexapro, I can certainly keep moving forward and make something of myself. Starting next week, I will be going to therapy, and I've actually committed to giving it an honest effort this time around. This is a journey that I know is far from over, but I'm reminding myself daily that I'm an independent bad bitch and I have a great deal of hope for what is coming.
Some days it feels like I've found some magical clarity, as if listening to FML by Kanye for the fifteenth time fixed everything and I am positively unstoppable, and some days it feels like I've taken a huge leap back. But I'm coming to the realization that no matter what happens, no matter how many times running breaks your heart and puts it back together again or someone challenges your worth or you make mistakes that seem catastrophic in the moment, there is always hope for the future. There will always be people who love you, not despite your shortcomings and the quirks in your brain chemistry, but because of who you are. For every good thing that you lose, another good thing will come along. Life just has a way of balancing itself out like that. And I am finally coming around to the realization that I am not defined by my disorders or by my sport. I am so much more than Alyssa Snyder the 10k runner with anxiety, I am Lyssa the human being who happens to enjoy running and the results that come from the miles and trials, who might have some struggles with mental health but is working to become so much more, who has an over-the-top love for cats, and who has some amazing friends and family who stand by me even when I'm absolutely on my bullshit.
For anyone out there who is having struggles of their own, just remember a few things while you're on your way to figuring things out:
-There's nothing wrong with you. You're not a broken person who needs fixing, you're a perfectly good person who's just been through a thing or two
-There is always someone out there to listen and understand when you feel like you have nobody. If you really feel like you have absolutely no one, slide into my dms and we can chat about what you're going through.
-There is nothing weak about seeking help. For the longest time, I didn't want to admit that I struggled with my mental health or allow others in the running community to know the extent to which it was a problem for me because I didn't want to be perceived as weak, broken, or crazy. You're not crazy, you just need a little hand getting all your ducks in a row.
-You are so much more than your disorders or your struggles, and you don't have to let them define you.
Now get out there and kick some ass, bbs.
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