RACE DAY

Countless hours of rehab. A countless amount of frustration and tears. An unbelievable number of physio and doctor appointments. An overwhelming amount of ups & downs. That's what my life's been like since my latest reconstruction surgery done in November 2015.

Overcoming obstacles. Facing fear. Exceeding my own expectations. That's what today's post is about.

On June 10th, 2017 I ran my first race since my fifth surgery. A half marathon. 21,1 kilometers to be exact. Those 21,1km were hell, to be honest. I'm not going to lie, I wanted to quit after 6km, and then after 10km and then at 15km. I don't know what kept me going. Because my body was tired. My leg hurt. My feet were on fire. But I didn't quit. And I'm proud I didn't.

Just starting the race was a small miracle. The day after my surgery I told my physio that if I ever ran again I would do this half marathon. But it was easier said than done. My surgeon said before the surgery I'd be lucky to be able to walk normally after the operation. After the operation he said there was no guarantee I'd ever get back to running. Those words are not something you want to hear when you're 18 and full of energy and willingness to do all sorts and absolutely love sports. Despite the little desperation after the surgery it wasn't the time to cry over it. I decided right there not even 12 hours after the procedure that one day I would run again. Not sure when but one day.

And so started a long journey first back to put weight on the leg, then back to walking and walking normally, then jogging and later on running. I took my first running steps somewhere middle April 2016, that is only 5 months after my fifth knee surgery. Not bad for someone who was never supposed to run again due to such bad damage in ligaments, tendons, nerves and bones. I guess it's not completely incorrect to believe in small miracles after all.

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I hadn't anything longer tha 15-16km after my surgery due to pain in the knee while running. Due tro instability of the knee joints and due to uncertainty. Of course there were other factors as well that affected my running (such as heart problems etc.) and it wasn't always all about the knee. If my knee was having a good day my heart wouldn't cooperate and running was almost impoossbile. If it was the other way round and the heart was doing good, then my knee was just total crap.

Running hasn't felt the same after the surgery, my knee gets heavy after some time and it starts affecting myt whole leg not long after that. So honestly I wasn't sure a half marathon was the best choice to make. But I had promised myself and others I would do it, so there was no going back. I've never neen a quitter, this wasn't the time to start being one.

On the starting line, 5 minutes before the start I was nervous. I was overwhelmed to even be on the starting line. I was stressed whether my knee could take the stress or not. I was emotional as it was my first race since my surgery.
The run started. I wanted to prove to myself I could still get myself into competition and race mode, be fearless and not worry - just run. That's what I did. The first 5km was good, like I actually felt good, my knee was keeping up and my heart wasn't beating like crazy. But after the 5km mark, I faced mny worst fear. I started feeling pain in my knee, my heart rate went up way too fast and my body was tired, exhausted. I wanted to quit. I had to pull myself together not to cry. It was terrible. I crossed the 10km line. It felt like forever. I wanted to give up again. The running felt absolutely horrible, my legs didn't cooperate with me. I don't know what kind of mental strength helped me through it, but I did. I crossed the 15km line. Still 6km to go and I was so finished, so tired. But I just blindly trusted my will-power and kept running. At 20km I knew there was no chance in hell I was going to stop the run. I ran my fastest 1,1km right there, gave it all I had left in my body and probably peed in my pants during the last 100 meters ;D But that's okay. I FINISHED. I CAN SAY I'M A HALF MARATHON FINISHER HAVING HAD A TOTALLY DESTROYED KNEE TWICE.

Many people didn't believe I could run again after such injuries than mine. Many people lost trust in the ability of the knee to recuperate to a certain level. Many people said I should prepare myself to the worst and not expect anything else than the least. But I wanted to prove those people wrong, and I did.
Many people think my knee is fully recovered and functional again. They think all is good and I just quit track&field and soccer because I didn't want to go back to them anymore. The truth is, that's far from being the truth. My knee is far from being recovered, it will never ever be "normal" and "good" again. My knee will most probably keep getting worse as I use it and the already twice replaced spare ligaments/tendons/nerves will wear out at some point. More than anything I would want to play soccer again and do heptathlon again but the decision is no longer in my hands and doing them is impossible unless I want an artificial knee or a total knee replacement in the next year or so....

The feeling crossing the finish line was emotional - very emotional. I didn't cry but it was close. My mom and sister were cheering for me about 200m before the finish and it boosted me up. The totaly crappy feeling during the race was forgotten and I enjoyed it after all, after all the obstacles, after all the pain and all the frustration during the race. I was tired and exhausted but it was a happy kind of tiredness. I HAD DONE IT. I didn't break my promise. I don't think anyone would've been mad at me for not running it but it meant the world to me. I wanted to prove to myself but also proved to the people who've watched me closely that I'm not a zero. I'm still in love with sports and not just a couch potato after all.

I'm not very often proud of myself. But after the race I was proud. The time didn't satisfy me (as many things don't when it comes to sports...) but that's not what I was proud of. I was proud of the journey I've gone through. I'm proud of the work I've done. I have beat myself to hell some days when I don't get myself to run or train but that day I got myself to run 21,1km despite a lot of challenges. It was a big thing for me. I didn't win the race, but I didn't have to. I won myself and that's what counts.








I know the time will come that one day my knee will be in such bad shape I will need the total knee replacement done. But that day isn't today. So I'm enjoying today as it is. My today isn't the same it was before but that is okay. I can't live the present if I always keep stressing out about the future and my knee's contidion. Let future come when it comes and what comes with it just come. I have faced so many obstacles that I'm not letting them take me down no matter what the future holds. I will keep doing the things I can as long as I can to be able to say later that I lived life to the fullest.
And as long as I can run I will push hard to get my knee stronger.