Words Matter

I'm in the process of moving things over here: https://chaoswithggirl.substack.com/p/words-matter

Earlier today, I saw that Oiselle posted the following on Twitter:

When we separate the athlete from the person, we are essentially saying, “You need to sacrifice your mental well-being to achieve success in the sports world.” This is not okay.

Since I had basically just written the opposite regarding separating the person from the athlete, I read the post several times before thinking, "What the fuck?" When I clicked on the link to the article Oiselle had referenced, I quickly realized that there was an error in wording. The bigger message is something I absolutely agree with and endorse, that of being open and willing to talk about mental health, and Karelle Edwards did a lovely job of sharing her story and encouraging others to do so as well. After all, according to a well-researched article published in 2019, "elite athletes experience broadly comparable rates of mental ill-health relative to the general population in relation to anxiety, depression, post-traumatic stress, and sleep disorders." There's no reason anyone in sports should be ashamed to come forward when close to 35% of elite athletes will suffer some form of mental health issue. It's critical that people in general, but athletes in particular, move away from any negative stigma associated with mental illness. 

The wording in the Oiselle post and article is an issue, though, and this is unfortunate because, as I said, the larger message is a very good one. I don't fault the author, really. Her overall concepts are spot-on; I fault those who published the article and then spread a potentially harmful message on social media. The Twitter post is misleading. The author's sentiments are actually fairly clear despite the error of suggesting "you can't separate the athlete from the person." Not only can you separate the athlete from the person, you absolutely should. What the author seems to mean is that one should take a holistic approach when dealing with athletes. Being allowed to show emotion, be emotional, show vulnerability, and support others in need is a healthy approach both on and off the athletic field. Integrating being human with the experience of being an athlete is not the same as being enmeshed with your emotions or tangled in your identity as an athlete, though. It's very, very important to be able to make the distinction, and Oiselle did not. 

To a degree, forming a positive "athletic identity" can be beneficial, but when it goes too far and an individual can't separate himself from that role, the label becomes problematic. A sport is an activity a person does, not who she is. In 1918, the journal of Qualitative Research in Sport, Exercise and Health published a study that suggested that adapting to retirement is more difficult for elite athletes than for the general public. When elite athletes are no longer competing at a high level, they may struggle to find a sense of purpose in their lives, especially if they haven't allowed for growth in other areas or if they are too wrapped up in their identity of being an athlete. When it comes to athletes, Malcom Lemmons cautions, "What they did in sports should never become who they are. And this goes for every athlete, currently playing or retired. Your ability as an athlete and the success you used to have should never overshadow your other abilities as a person." 

When I speak of the emotional, physical, mental, and even spiritual bodies of a person, I'm not moving into woo territory. This is just a more well-rounded look at the individual as a whole. My first college coach used to ask, "Are you physically tired, or do you feel like you don't want to do the workout?" Physically tired meant my legs were sore, I didn't sleep well, or I was drained and lacking energy. Emotionally tired could present as physical symptoms, but, in that case, we took a "warm up and see" tactic. If, after a warm-up jog, I was still fatigued, it was time for an easy day or a day of rest. If my body felt better, I could jump in the workout. The best thing about my coach was that he always looked at us as individuals first, athletes second. If you nurture the person, the positive results should spill out in all areas of life, including athletics. 

I don't want to take away from Edwards' necessary and heartfelt message of getting help and being free to open up about mental health issues; I just hope that everyone can be more aware of how much words matter. The idea that a person be allowed to be who she is in everything she does is a good one. The problem is Oiselle wording the social media post in a way that suggests merging identities, which can be very unhealthy and doesn’t appear to be what the author means anyway. A little caution on social media can go a hell of a long way. 

Pain and Pretzels

Every time I go to a certain store, I sort of pretend I'm not going to buy a large soft pretzel. I'm not sure why I do this, maybe in part because bread has become such a taboo item these days, and I contemplate whether or not I "should" eat the pretzel, thinking maybe I ought to choose something healthier. I try to look away as I walk by the bakery, and eventually take a quick glance. If there are any twisted knots left, I get a little thrill and run over to put one in a bag. If the shelf is empty, I'm always disappointed and reluctantly toss some salad or a can of soup into my basket. 

These days, it's not exactly guilt that makes me kind of weird about the purchase. I used to eat two bagels topped with peanut butter or cheese at a time when I was in college and never really thought twice about it. Back then, bread was still considered part of a healthy diet. I was also running a lot and probably needed whatever carbs I consumed. As it is, I really enjoy toasting the pretzel and eating it with cream cheese, butter, or fried eggs. It makes me content or at least not feel physically bad. Overall, it's a pleasant experience, however, there's this little part of my brain that questions it. I hate that the world ever heard of Keto, Paleo, Atkins, or whatever other fad diet is au courant because now we're all supposed to look up to Instagrammers who eat "clean," whatever the fuck that means, when it's much more enjoyable to take pleasure in eating. The mess of dieters on social media reminds me of terrible times in my life when I was way too rigid and uptight to eat what I craved and couldn't see that eating something outside of my comfort zone when I was hungry was better than avoiding all food if I couldn't get something that fit with my specific set of set rules. In some ways, I'm still too rigid, a bit of the old OCD going on, but I'm glad I'm suffering a bit less and not so uptight that I can't enjoy some fucking bread now and then.

Baked goods aside, I've been thinking about this blog post for years. An outline has been sitting untouched for far too long, but an incident that occurred recently prompted me to drag out the draft folder and take another look. This is really just a rant, not an exercise in writing, and it's probably not going to be very entertaining. In other words, read at your own risk. 

It goes without saying that this year has been an exceptionally hard year on almost everyone. Quite a few of my friends and acquaintances have lost people close to them, the majority but not all from COVID. As a result, this doesn't feel like the right time to drop this kind of post into cyberspace, but there's never really a perfect time. 

A little over a week ago, I had a colonoscopy that resulted in two polyps being removed. Everything should be fine, but I have felt exceptionally tired and run-down ever since. That same day, I got some not so good news about my foot. An MRI showed a ligament tear, tendon thickening, a trapped nerve, some swelling in various places, and a little cartilage wearing in the joint. Oddly, none of this is supposed to prevent me from running..well, jogging, but today, I was just tired, tired of my routine, physically tired, emotionally drained, and sick of dealing with the pain and my wonky gait. I started out on a little jog in the falling snow and kept stopping. My shoe needed retying. Everything hurt. I needed to stretch a little more. My other shoe needed adjusting. I didn't even get a few houses up the street before I just said, "fuck it," and walked home. 

In the last couple of months, I have given more serious thought to giving up running altogether. It's the only exercise I really like other than horseback riding, which is too expensive, and I haven't gotten anywhere near a horse in what feels like a lifetime. I'm not quite giving up yet, mostly because I feel like if I can get to a point where I can walk without pain or at least with less pain, I'll naturally want to run. At this point, both hurt. Suzy Hamilton and I talked once about what we would do if we couldn't run. We both agreed that we would become walkers or maybe hikers instead. I don't know where she stands on that now, but walking isn't much of an option for me at the moment. Even biking accentuates my imbalances. It all just feels wrong. 

 

Pain is considered a symptom of an underlying condition. In more technical terms, it has been described as "an unpleasant sensory and emotional experience associated with, or resembling that associated with, actual or potential tissue damage." Physical pain and emotional pain can sometimes become intertwined. The pain of existing for some can feel like a physical ache or discomfort, and chronic physical pain can increase emotional pain. 

When I first got the results of the MRI, I wasn't exactly surprised. I knew something was wrong, but I still worried maybe the test wouldn't show anything. Going into my hysterectomy, that same kind of fear arose. What if it's all in my head? What if there's nothing wrong, and it turns out I'm just a whiner? But, to date, that has never been the case. 

What concerns me regarding this whole situation is that a few years ago, I saw a couple of alternative "healers" who suggested that I was creating pain, that there was nothing physically wrong with my foot. I put off getting an MRI because I assumed they were basing this knowledge about my body part on some kind of evidence, but what they were really getting at was a fancy way of saying, "It's in your head." I suppose looking at my foot, one would never really know all that was going on under the surface, but everything wrong with my foot isn't apparent at a glance. That's why there are other ways to access injuries. That siad, there are at least some ways of prodding and poking certain areas that should give a professional some kind of an idea about the type of injury a person has or at least make it apparent that the discomfort is specific to a particular spot and not in a patient's head.

 

I always thought that this post would be extra long and informative, full of facts about the difference between psychosomatic issues and injuries. I know that the mind is powerful and believe it can contribute to either making pain worse or alleviating it, but I can't even tell you how absolutely sick and tired I am of people who discount other people's pain. I'm very fortunate that I have recently worked with a few people, my podiatrist included, who have never questioned my pain. Insted, they have worked with me to try to find ways to help cope with it and alleviate it as much as possible. 

I guess my whole point in writing this is to encourage people to trust their intuition when it comes to pain. Most people, especially runners, have a good idea of what's going on with their bodies. Don't let anyone make assumptions about something you know to be real. I always come back to the idea that even if pain were in someone's head, shouldn't that also be addressed? Wouldn't that also be a symptom of something deeper? I mean, fuck. The way some so easily discount others really saddens me. 

If I opt for surgery, it will be my 13th. I'm not ready to face that yet.

I'm not bothering to proofread this. I'm too tired, and I've spent most of the day in bed.