The doldrums: the difference between realism and self pity

The wonderful creation that is the internet has long been a source of self substantiation. The inexhaustible reference that Google has become has lulled us into a, often incorrect, belief that we are able to effectively self diagnose, treat and prevent every ailment in our personal and professional lives. The simple, ever turned to answer, to any question in the 21^st century is...Google it. Maybe it is, in fact, not actually that simple. Has our increasing eagerness to rationalise that which we are experiencing through a cursory web search led us to believe that which is simply not true? 

After injuring my knee I did what any inquisitive twenty-something-year-old would do, I turned to the internet for answers. At first, whilst waiting to see a specialist, I believed that Google would tell me what was wrong...it didn’t. Then, after hearing the prognosis, I believed that Google would tell me what my surgery would entail...it didn’t. Then, I turned to Google once again for information as to what to expect from rehab, again Google didn’t have the goods. Upon reflection, I am sure that somewhere within the insurmountable page after page of information the correct answer was lying in wait, ready to be found, read and understood. The problem was not the unavailability of the correct answer, but instead the sheer volume of answers not relevant to my circumstance. Finding relevant information via a Google search is much akin to finding the proverbial needle among the haystack; one can find themself not seeing the trees for the forest.

After months of rehab, with the light at the end of the tunnel remaining a distant glow in a dark horizon, I sought inspiration; stories from those who had been through what I was experiencing, their trials and tribulations. So once more, without hesitation, I turned to, my trusted reference, the internet. What I found was stories of triumph; stories from those refusing to be limited by personal circumstance or physical ailment. Success after success after success, the stories went on. The guy who lost his leg from a ground fall and now onsights harder climbs than I could dream of being dragged up. The boulderer who blew his shoulder and went on to crush V12s within a year. Story after story of gleeful successes. A distinct pattern emerged from the anecdotes; injury, positivity, inspiration, success. I was hurt, I stayed positive, I was inspired by those around me, and then I succeeded. They were never negative, downhearted, uninspired or uncommitted, the stories depicted 24/7 positivity; such unwavering positivity I was not able to muster. Ever faithful in my trusted reference, I looked inwards for the problem. Surely if ALL of these people were able to remain positive throughout their recoveries, the negativity that I was experiencing was nothing other than fruitless self pity. I categorised my negativity as self-vindication – worthless and unproductive.

After dragging myself out of the doldrums, not for the first time, or even the last, during my rehab journey, I allowed myself a moment of reflection. Was it possible that my trusty reference had tricked me again?! I am sure that the people I read of were positive and inspired, but just perhaps they too experience moments of weakness; moments when being recovered was a dream difficult to conceive in reality. Moments when the pain that one must intentionally force upon themself in the name of recovery was simply too much, or when dreams passed no longer seemed achievable. Perhaps these stories were out there and my cursory internet search simply hadn’t unearthed them. Perhaps what I was feeling was not so much self-pity as it was acceptance that something less than good had happened.

Realism – “interest or concern for the actual or real”. It really isn’t pleasant to be injured when you would otherwise be able to participate in the same activities as your friends and doing a weighted leg press after a knee reconstruction actually does hurt. Pretending that this is not the case is living in the abstract, a fantasy world of no substance. The truth is rehab is a journey that has taken me to incredible highs and crippling lows. Don’t be deceived, it has not been an easy journey, nor has it been quick (it may have seemed quick to you, but you were not the one sidelined in an itchy brace learning to walk again), but it has made me a better person and could quite possibly be the best thing that has ever, or will ever, happened for my climbing. I am sure that I will regain my strength and that I will climb better in the future than I thought possible in the past and had I waited a few more months before writing this my anecdote may have followed the same familiar pattern of those I mentioned; injury, positivity, inspiration, success. Because, for the most part, I have remained positive and those around me truly do inspire me and I will one day be successful and in retrospect these will be the moments I remember and those I would probably deem worthy of reporting. The information I sourced during my web searches was, yet again, not incorrect, it simply was not relevant to my stage of recovery at the time. There is a significant difference between realism and self-pity, between not being positive 100% of the time and having a negative outlook, between what others have experienced and what you are experiencing. Unfortunately my need to substantiate what I was experiencing through a web search disallowed me to realise this for some time. 

How full is the glass

Life is a game of perspective, every day we are given the opportunity to be happy, to focus on those things in our life that are truly good; conversely we also have the opportunity to focus solely on how the world has smited us, choosing instead to be discontented, negative and unappeased . The new year is poking its head out around a not so distant corner. A game of hide and seek which will soon draw to a close, the seeker soon to be stumbling upon the promise of another 365 days; opportunities are abundant. The start of something new. Well, technically, the end of something old, but as one chapter draws to a close another begins (that is of course unless those crazy Mayans were right). In order to welcome the new we must first resolve the old and in doing so I am forced to reflect upon the year that is passing. It is true that 2012 has had its trying days but overall it has been a pretty amazing journey. There is no better place to start than the start, so let’s start there...

January 1: A tent was pitched – the tent was mine! I was in the magical fantasyland that is the Grampians National Park and I was waking up in a tent for the first time in my life! (Until this point I had not camped, I had not been on a climbing trip, heck I had only climbed outside twice!) It was hot – but I was hooked! I was surrounded by an inspirational crew whose psyche seemed to overflow, filling the vastness of the Grampians with an electric energy. The opportunities we endless, a land of promise; a new world awaiting an explorer, the explorer was me. By the end of February I was back again for the fourth time. Only this time I had projects, I had the love of my life beside me inspiring me to push harder and be better and I had learnt that leaving the lid off of your food box overnight is not a smart move.

The Grampians - a land of promise!

February 25: Snap, crackle, pop! But, actually! Snap went the medial and lateral ligaments of my right knee. Crackle went the meniscus and bone and pop went the patella. A drop knee that went horribly wrong. Lying in the dirt under 4:45, my ears rang and my sight faded, a wonderful day scampering around Andersons had come to an abrupt and painful conclusion. Reflecting on this day my mind is filled with memories of the amazing people I was with, not with the injury that I sustained. I remember that not once did the group who carried me out complain that it was 40+ degrees and we were out of water, nor did they comment on the magnitude of task lay ahead. I am constantly awestruck and inspired by the people with whom I climb – they are truly the difference between bouldering being my hobby and bouldering being my life! My injury only further highlighted how fortunate I have been to be welcomed into such an incredible world packed full of amazing people. I am not sure I will ever be able to thank those that helped me down from Andersons enough. Josh, Tim, Rob and everyone else who helped thank you; when things go wrong people’s characters are tested and I am truly humbled by you all.

4:45 Drop Knee - the move that changed everything

March 7: Pristine was the word used by my surgeon as he described my newly repaired knee. It wasn’t “a new titanium, radio-controlled knee with red and green flashing lights and a ‘glow-in-the-dark power save option’” as Josh had promised it would be, but the “installation was fast and complication free”. I was itching to get back to climbing. The following week I was back in the gym completing my first hangboard routine. One pull up was my limit and even that felt crazy hard – but again I was inspired by those around me! Claudia you are a legend and there is absolutely NO way that I would have pushed on if you hadn’t been beside me working equally as hard! Thank you! By March 15 I was walking small distances without my crutches, unaided except for a brace. I started top-roping again, climbing with just my left leg. I learnt to move dynamically, to control my core, to campus, to move in the most efficient way possible and because of these newly acquired skills I believe wholeheartedly that injuring my knee is the best thing that has happened to my climbing. I learnt to train my weaknesses. More importantly I learnt to stop making excuses. It wasn’t easy, and later I will post more on my rehab journey, but it was certainly worth it.

Pretty comfortable! 

April-August: By May my brace had come off and I was re-learning how to walk, soon it was back to work and training certainly suffered due to my return to the workforce. I was interstate every second week, but the weeks that I was home were spent doing hangboard routines (I will post these soon), core sessions, swimming, physio and learning to climb with both legs again.

September: My first trip back to the Grampians. This was it; all of the hard work of the previous seven months would come together for this trip! I was ready to crush! To climb harder than I had ever climbed before! Only, I hadn’t factored in that climbing hard equated to falling off and landing safely was not something that I had mastered at this stage. On my first boulder my foot popped and I jarred my leg between the pad and the boulder...two days rest! On the third day I decided to begin consolidating my grades. I allowed myself to climb only V0 and V1s, forcing myself to complete 10 of each before working on higher grades. This was perfect. I was still injured (though I hated to admit it) and consolidating my grades allowed me to enjoy climbing for the sake of climbing. I was able to enjoy a high volume of problems without fear of hurting myself. I learnt to commit, falling was not an option.  I was once again able to enjoy the movement of climbing, focusing on what my body could do, rather than being frustrated by what it couldn’t. The next day, I dislocated my shoulder.

October-November: Realising that I had pushed my body too far over the preceding months it was time to come to terms with the limitations of my body. Being surrounded by so many strong climbers whose experience provides a library of tips and tricks is a wonderful asset and has certainly allowed me to grow as a climber at a rate that would not have been possible alone. One must, however, remain ever conscious of their experience level and avoid direct comparisons between themselves and those with significantly greater experience. I fell into the trap of believing that my body was able to perform at a level equal to those around me; I wanted to train harder and harder, to become their equals. If I saw someone campusing, I wanted to campus. One arm pull ups, mono hangs, everything seemed possible – I simply needed to work harder to achieve it. Having only started climbing one year before my body apposed this aggressive approach and the result was injury after injury. It was time to revaluate my approach and factor in the short period of time that I had been climbing. I forced myself to rest.

December: My body feels more healed with every passing day and I am slowly getting stronger again. I am not doing three hangboard routines a week anymore, in fact since I injured my shoulder I haven’t been able to dead hang, but I am still climbing and I am still psyched out of my little mind.  I am excited to heal completely and put to use everything that I have learnt this year. I still have so much learning to do but now I am happy to do that at my pace. I want to spend the rest of my life climbing and destroying my body trying to be the best in my first couple of years is not going to allow this to happen. There is training and then there is training smartly, it has been a costly lesson but I now feel that I understand the difference.

What I have learnt this year, above all else, is that there are positives in even the most dire of circumstances. Happiness is a choice; a game of perspective – not something that we are owed. Bad things happen, life can be tough, but it is in the hard times that we learn the most about ourselves, about who we are and who we are capable of becoming. When put to the test we can wave a white flag, surrendering our hope, dreams and happiness, or we can choose to rise to the occasion and seek out the opportunity to learn more, to adapt, to become better people. It’s true, the glass can always be half full!