Rising Strong: Reflections on Injury, Listening to Your Body, Community, and Healing

During my most recent Spartan race, I experienced a dramatic shift from exhilaration to pain in the blink of an eye. As I approached the monkey bars, a surge of confidence coursed through me. I had conquered this obstacle countless times before, each successful swing fueling my belief that I could tackle it again. Anticipation built within me as I grasped the large metal bars, swinging with determination because of their greater distance and the mud that made them slippery, all to reach the bell that signaled victory over this challenge.

But in an instant, everything changed. As I reached for the bell, my fingers slipped. Time slowed as I fell awkwardly to the ground, a sharp pop echoing in my knee, followed by a wave of excruciating pain that sent shockwaves through my body. The confidence that had propelled me forward moments earlier was replaced by the stark reality of injury.

A medic was called to assess the damage, and his calm professionalism helped ease my panic. Despite the immediate pain, a sense of resolve began to rise within me. I was there not just for myself but for my client and friend, who was embarking on her first trifecta. The thought of letting her down fueled my determination to push through the pain and complete the race. I was not going to let this be “our story”; it was not the ending we had worked so hard for. The race was about more than just the obstacles; it was about pushing through the challenges that life throws at you. I had faced much harder trials in my life and kept going. I could do this; we could do this!

With the medic's assistance, I carefully stood up, testing my weight on the injured leg. It hurt, but I was determined. Gritting my teeth, I forged ahead, each step a reminder of my commitment to finish what we had started.

As we approached the next obstacle, I took a deep breath and focused. I knew I had to dig deep, both physically and mentally. A surge of determination pushed me forward, fueled by the cheers of fellow racers and the camaraderie that surrounded me. “You’re a beast!” they shouted as I powered through 30 single-leg burpees, climbed inverted walls, hopped on one leg up the muddy slip wall, carried weighted buckets and sandbags through deep sand, dragged my leg in an awkward bear crawl beneath the longest barbed wire crawl I had seen at a sprint event, and climbed the rope while gritting my teeth and grunting. Dani was there, encouraging and praying for me while ensuring I was okay. As we crossed the finish line, a wave of relief washed over me.

Once I completed the race, I sought help from the medic tent. I decided the best course of action was to take an ice plunge on-site, as the pain and immobility lingered. Dani and her dad were incredibly supportive and helpful, despite my stubborn nature.

I knew that while the road to recovery would be a challenge, the experience served as a powerful reminder of the importance of resilience, determination, and the bonds we forge in pursuit of our goals.

Once I returned to my gym, I continued training clients while also consulting a doctor and a sports injury specialist, both of whom did not believe it was an ACL tear.

However, the reality hit hard when I later received the results from my X-ray and MRI. It turned out that I had completely torn my ACL and suffered several bone contusions. This stark contrast to the earlier assessments left me grappling with the implications of my injury. Why hadn’t I trusted my instincts? I knew something was terribly wrong when it happened. As I attempted to pick up the cement atlas carry with the men’s weight, I felt my knee pop out of place, sending a wave of excruciating pain through my body. I dropped the weight and, unwilling to admit defeat, begrudgingly picked up the “women’s weight” on my shoulder and carried it through.

While processing this setback, I couldn’t help but reflect on my goals for the year ahead. For my 40th birthday, I wanted to run 100 miles—a personal milestone I had been training for, and one that filled me with excitement. I had been running faster and farther than I ever had in my life, and I felt ready to take on the challenge.

I had planned an ambitious race schedule, including the Wild Canyon Ultra 50K, a 5K Sunshine Run with a client, a Spartan Super with a client, the Palo Duro Canyon 50 Mile, a Spartan Beast with a client, the Texas Rattler 50K, and the West Virginia Rim to River 100 Miler.

As I contemplated this ambitious race schedule, I was reminded that every setback can be a setup for a comeback. I had spent countless hours dreaming about those 100 miles, and now I needed to channel that passion into my recovery. I would focus on rest and rehabilitation, ensuring I came back stronger and more prepared for the challenges that lay ahead.

As I await further information from my surgeon, whom I will see in a week, I have been instructed to rest and refrain from training anyone. The pain in my knee has worsened over the past several days, and it continues to pop out of joint. This unexpected pause has provided me with an opportunity to reflect on my experiences and what lies ahead. It has underscored the importance of listening to my body, even when initial assessments seem reassuring. Sometimes, life takes unexpected turns, and we must adapt accordingly. Injuries are an inherent part of the sports we embrace—something we strive to avoid, yet they can happen despite our best efforts. While the risks are real, the rewards of pursuing our passion make it a journey worth taking.

I am focusing on my recovery and giving myself the time I need to heal properly. While the temptation to rush back into training is strong, I recognize that this time is crucial for my long-term health.

Ultimately, I know this experience will shape me in ways I can't yet foresee. When the time comes to lace up my running shoes again, I will do so with a renewed sense of purpose. I will tackle those 100 miles not just for myself, but as a testament to resilience, determination, and the unwavering spirit to rise after a fall.

Today, however, it is a resounding no on my journey, and I will trust that for whatever reason everything is yelling at me to sit still for once. I am finally listening. I understand that this pause might be a necessary chapter in my life, a chance to recalibrate and reassess what truly matters. In a world that often pushes us to rush forward, I’m learning the value of patience not only with others, but also with myself, and the importance of honoring my body’s signals.

As a certified professional in sports injuries and working with many clients who have previous injuries, I’ve always emphasized the importance of listening to one’s body. Now, my clients have become a source of encouragement, reminding me of the very advice I have shared with them. Their support has been overwhelming; they’ve reached out with messages of encouragement, offering to help, sending books, adaptogen drinks and reminding me of the times I helped them overcome injuries. It’s a humbling reminder that the relationships I’ve built in this community are strong and meaningful.

This time of reflection, though challenging, is an opportunity to cultivate a deeper connection with my clients that define the business I cherish. I will continue to support them as they pursue their goals, sharing my insights and experiences along the way and building support and accountability through my app. And when the time is right, I will return, ready to embrace the journey ahead with open arms and an open heart.