Staying out of the spiral
My dear reader.
Tomorrow night, at my usual bedtime of 9pm, I’ll be changing into a hospital gown to get my first ever MRI.
It’s my leg, you see. A potential femoral stress fracture.
I feel so sad, so scared. Running and hiking and weight lifting have been the core things keeping me afloat since my father’s death, and now… what?
I had originally planned to write to you about something else this week, something less self-centered, but it’s currently taking every molecule of my willpower and every nervous system regulation tactic I’ve ever learned to keep myself from tumbling deep into the dark spiral of despondency and despair.
So here I am, humbly writing about my leg, hoping that by sharing the specifics of how I’ve been trying to keep myself out of the depths of that spiral I will then be able to stay out of the spiral in the days ahead.
Here goes.
I. Resisting blame
It took about three weeks of various symptoms for me to finally realize that the issue could be bone-related, and the inner dialogue that followed was swift and mean. What is wrong with you that you could let this happen? Why didn’t you stop running sooner, at the first sign of pain? Why didn’t you progress even more conservatively?
But the thing is, I progressed very conservatively. The training I’ve been doing is well-matched for my current fitness level and my past few months of activity. I’ve never had any kind of bone injury before, so how could I have immediately known that that’s what might be happening?
And perhaps most importantly: What good ever comes from yelling at ourselves? I guarantee there isn’t a single medical professional whose prescription would be, “Ah yes, a stress fracture. The key is to be very cruel to yourself at all times from now on; that will mend your bone right quick.”
II. Surrendering to the complexity of the body
The desire to blame myself for this injury comes from a desire for certainty and control. I want to know exactly why this happened, how it happened, what to change, what to fix. But bodies are complex (and frustrating and beautiful and gross and wondrous and and), which means that grasping for a simplified kind of blame doesn’t actually help.
In a voice note yesterday, my beloved friend Kate reminded me (from her many years as a professional track athlete and Olympian) that there can often be a connection between seemingly random injuries and overall life stress.
“Coaches would tell us to be mindful in the month or so following a big stressor, because that kind of stress impacts your recovery, which can then lead to injury.”
In other words, it’s not that I wasn’t being smart about how I progressed my training load. It’s that my dad is dead — and the truth of that grief, plus the stress of traveling to and from Florida again and again, cleaning out my parents’ entire home, moving my disabled mother 1200 miles to an assisted living facility here in Massachusetts, and now suddenly being in charge of her finances, her care, her entire life, well. All of that lives in my body, too.
III. Rejecting the binary
Running is just not for me anymore. I’m too old. It’s too hard on my body. I obviously can’t do this. Why did I ever think I could be competitive at long-distance endurance events? That dream is stupid and delusional. I failed my AZT FKT attempt in March and now I’ve failed at getting back into running too. I’m only going to keep breaking my own heart again and again. This injury is clearly a sign I should quit entirely.
This list of real, verbatim things I’ve thought to myself in the past few days could go on and on (and on). The all-or-nothing binary is just so seductive for me, particularly during times of fear. It’s like a part of me craves the surface-level simplicity of black and white thinking, regardless of how inaccurately it flattens the truths of the world, the self, the body. In the binary I am either capable or not, strong or not, athletic or not, foolish or not — no nuance, no in between.
But just because the binary seems like a relief at first, with its declarative statements and an easy way to sort things into clear boxes, that relief doesn’t last. A person is never either capable or not capable, strong or not strong, athletic or not athletic, foolish or not foolish. We are almost always both, and many other things besides.
Holding a non-binary view of this injury, and of what it “means” for the future of my body in motion, is turning out to be the biggest relief of all.
IV. Not weaponizing other people’s struggles against myself
Here’s the both/and:
There are many more dire things happening in the world right now than my potential stress fracture.
And, just because there are objectively worse things happening to other people doesn’t mean that this isn’t happening to me.
Telling myself I shouldn’t be upset because it’s not “that bad” never helps. What helps is seeing my own personal pain as part of a larger web of humanity, and allowing what I feel to be an invitation into deeper solidarity with the pain of others. Tonglen meditation is the specific practice I use, and I’ve been relying on it a lot the past few days.
V. Reaching for gratitude, however hard it might be to find
The cost of tomorrow’s MRI is $1800 ($900 for each scan, one of my thigh, one of my hip), and due to [insert all-too-familiar story about the fuckery of the US healthcare and insurance system] I am paying for it myself, in cash.
Gratitude might seem like an odd choice here, since I hate every single thing about the way healthcare functions (or, more accurately, doesn’t function) in this country and that I feel angry about it all the time, but given the reality of the situation it is also true that alongside my anger I feel absurdly grateful to have a savings account from which I can pull the money for this test.
I am grateful to know that I will soon have answers, and I am grateful too for the creative and resilient parts of me that I trust to find a new path forward for my body once those answers come.
A little wish, to close:
May we all find ways to stay out of our respective doom spirals today, however alluring their pull might be. And if you do fall into the darkness, may you know that you are still loved all the way down there, too <3
More soon,
Nic
Well, that sucks. I’m sorry you’re going through this and also gestures broadly Thank you for showing up with what’s true for you now. Sending god thoughts for clear answers and a speedy recovery. 💜💜
The appeal of a binary for me is also in the certainty that comes with it. This is who I am, this is what’s happening, this is what I can do next. It can only fit into one of two/few boxes. It quickly turns out to feel restrictive to me, whether it’s gender or what I’m “allowed to do” if I want to prevent migraines.
As so often has been the case, we are traveling similar paths. (My mother passed in April after I relocated three years ago to care for her, I had an appointment with a podiatrist just this morning.) You've given me food for thought, per usual. Gratitude really is SUCH a major key.
I am right here with you. Running, dance/ballet, hiking, walking outside, and peloton cycle classes are what keep me relatively sane and functional, and are a big part of my life and sense of self. In August, out of absolutely nowhere, while doing the most basic of dance moves in class, I: a) tore my ACL, b) tore my meniscus, and c) suffered a bone bruise. It has been a whole, uh, journey moving through what it AT LEAST a several months process of healing. Always happy to discuss/commiserate!
I am in the same boat. I've had a meniscus tear over two years. I elected for surgery in January and the journey to healing is long and tedious and HARD. The beginning is the worst. The withdrawal awl from the endorphins and exercise and your sports community is brutal. However, there is hope on the other side! It's been interesting to see how I've ended up filling all of the empty time and space. You never know what you're capable of! I've been playing piano, writing songs, and playing around with DJing. I am sure you will find new layers of yourself as you take time off from training. I wish you a speedy recovery!
Ah, Nic. I'm holding you in my thoughts and sending good vibes for your healing. Bodies are so strange. I grew up with the mantra, "If you can still move it, it's not broken!" Welllllll, I learned that wasn't true back when my twelve year old got a fracture in his arm from being bopped by a boffer sword... we found out three weeks later after taking him into the doctor when it still hurt. All we can do is learn and go on.
I was in this spiral yesterday. Last night I had a great sleep and I feel so much better today because of it. Over the next week and a half I have 6 appointments with different doctors and practitioners, I find this both completely exhausting and am grateful to have a team helping me. I wish you all the luck in being compassionate to yourself and finding the help you need to recover.
Thank you! From the bottom of my heart, deep felt gratitude for this post. I am spiralling and reading your words, seeing my patterns and knowing I am not alone is giving me strength to not absolutely tear myself apart. Summoning and sending calm, healing witchy vibes for your procedure and recovery.
I'm sorry about your injury. I took up running in my early 40s and ran 25 half marathons and many, many 10Ks and 5Ks. I never had a single running injury, but had to give it up when I was 63 because of pelvic floor issues. I raise this mostly to be in the open about something that many, many women have, but most don't want to talk about. After going through physical therapy (I still do the exercises, seven years later), I switched to bike riding. I also practice yoga and go to body pump classes at the gym, but never, ever do high impact stuff. Even with all of this, gravity always has the last say and two years ago the prolapse issues worsened and now I use a pessary. Eventually I will probably need surgery. One step at a time. But, hey, I am loving the bike riding and go on multi-day rides and regularly ride 25 miles or more. Last year I rode 80 miles in a day, and I am still travelling, walking, hiking - still enjoying being fit! Life is a series of transitions. Never give up.
The space that is in the waiting for more information is a hard one, when you don't have any real answers and speculation calls - it's seductive and hard and <3 I'm sorry things are hard, and that you're injured, and that your Dad died and now you carry your Mama in a way that challenges the typical parent-child relationship (which is to say: things are complex and nuanced and hard). Well done for being so kind to yourself when things are tough x
We needed this. It might feel like talking about yourself, but your self helps us think about ours.
Such a good reminder that body and mind are intertwined. I fractured my 5th metatarsal this summer and then 2 weeks ago sprained the same ankle while running (during a particularly stressful time in my life.) Right as I felt I had approached a comfort level I had never achieved before with running! The patience and gentleness muscles are being tested daily. Solidarity <3
One of the things I've learned from you over the years (and I've been practicing ALOT in my own life) is how to be your own friend. How to treat yourself with kindness. How to (metaphorically) hold you own hand through the hard stuff. I see that modeled so well in this post. Honestly, it's been such a gift to see your process of how you do that. It helps me think through how I keep myself out of that spiral too. Sending you lots of positive thoughts for your MRI, Nic. E>
as someone who is often on the nutrition-care side of this type of injury conversation/spiral/processing, I'm bookmarking this for all future client conversations :) (and myself, if ever needed! things happen!!)
Hoping your MRI provides clear and consistent results so you don't have to pay any more high out of pocket fees, and sending healing vibes your way, Nic! <3
Sending you so much strength and comfort Nic ❤️❤️ Hoping the MRI is a breeze and you get good news and can recover quickly ❤️🩹 I'm so glad you're going to get checked out!! 💪
I listened to a Mel Robbins podcast interview with and am currently reading a book by Sanjay Gupta, MD called It Doesn't Have To Hurt. It's not just the body telling the brain it hurts, it's also your personal history with pain - whether in general or specific to the injury. I'm fascinated by this because of the reemergence of pain from a compressed SI disc. I can say in all honesty that when I first felt the pain I immediately thought "Shit. Here I go again." How much of my current pain is the memory of that pain from the original incident? I don't know. I'm only a couple chapters into the book and I'm hoping to find some techniques to use without pain killers.
I hope the MRI is conclusive for you Nic! Then I hope there is something actionable that comes from it. I'll be sending you good mojo!
This is quite relatable. I have fewer and shorter migraines these days, but as soon as it lasts more than a day or two it impacts me so much harder because my mind goes back to a few years ago when I averaged 14 migraine days a month. When I do notice I’m spiraling and have the capacity to listen to my pain in a more neutral way, I generally realize it’s not as bad as I make it. It lasts a few minutes and then I spiral again but it’s a start. 😅
My mom got a stress fracture in her foot after my dad died. The body connection is real. Hoping the MRI results are good for you.
I have been struggling with a really painful shoulder issue for the last 10 months and finally my MRI has shown a path forward which isn't that great but at least it's something to try. I miss lifting weights and I can't hold certain yoga poses, and have to be super careful walking my dog and especially the shelter dogs to prevent flare ups. Living with the pain and the uncertainty has been really difficult but I've been also meditating a lot and trying other forms of exercise and trying really hard not to spiral since spiraling has been one of my super powers in the past 😩
Also, when I was getting my MRI, the tech insisted that I should listen to music while in the machine and I kept telling her I prefer no music but she insisted over and over until I finally gave up and then had to listen to Kenny G for the 40 minutes that I was in the MRI machine 😂
Hope your MRI music is at least of your own choosing and hope your MRI results show a clear path forward 🧡
You will have had your MRI by the time you read this.
You are not alone. I have to have an MRI every year for my MS so they can see what new damage my multiple sclerosis has done to my brain and it petrifies me. I am a reiki healer and clinical hypnotherapist and NLP practitioner and I feel sick for a week before I have to have it done. If there is a delay at the hospital, I have got as far as the carpark before I have been able to convince myself to go back.
I find it unbelievably difficult to apply all my knowledge and training to work on me. It is hard to overcome my fear and stress and I usually end up crying throughout the whole process but it is just one hour of your life and if it can help with your recovery, it is worth it.
So well done for being so brave and know that you are never alone and that you are loved and supported. A xx
I really hope you get the answers you need/want from the MRI. ❤️ And if I was forced to pay $1,800 for a medical procedure I’d beat myself up for ”putting myself in that position”. Even if I knew I wasn’t to blame.
Nic, so sorry to read about your potential femoral stress fracture.
I understand very well what it means to live and train for long trails while dealing with chronic lower body injuries: I hiked the Colorado Trail on crutches.
If you do have a stress fracture, the docs are likely prescribing lots of rest, which I know feels impossible when running and hiking and weight lifting have been the core things keeping you connected with life.
I appreciate all your nervous system regulation tactics, and use them myself, including Tonglen. But, IMHO, you’ve got to keep moving with aerobic exercise as well!
The good news is you can likely do this with forearm crutches (not the crappy underarm kind). They let you efficiently take weight off your lower body as needed. I've hiked thousands of miles with them. If I can help with more info, reach out to me.
Either way, wishing you equanimity and well-being.
Oh, Nic, you know I've had multiple orthopedic surgeries in the past five years. I know how hard all of this is, and am also always surprised at how hard I can be on myself when a diagnosis lands or an issue arises with my body. Grief is also a huge part of all of this--no matter what the situation, from permanent loss of an ability to reduced use to an injury to just having to address something that wasn't there before. It's definitely a practice to get through all of it, much like grieving the loss of a loved one (which I also have a lot of first-hand experience with). All this to say, I see you, and I understand, and my heart goes out to you. Hope the MRI goes well and that you get clear answers and a path forward.
Thanks so much for the support, Toni! I feel like so much of how hard we can be on ourselves in these situations is rooted in cultural ableism and capitalist expectations of productivity. Unlearning that while holding the very real grief is so much!