Modern Athlete Magazine Issue 131, June 2020 June 2020 | Page 47

TRAIL RUNNING
Hobbling up Elsie’s Peak
Freedom on Elsie’s Peak
progress and frustrated in still not being able to run, I
went to see Dr Demblon, for peace of mind, confirmation
of the injury, and exact recovery process and time.
An X-ray showed no evidence of a complete break
or fracture. It was only a few days later that an MRI
revealed “intense bone marrow oedema within the
posteromedial aspect of the right femoral neck with
central hypo-intense linear focus, suggestive of stress
fracture.” In some ways, I was relieved that I did not
have to be cut open, but I was also annoyed that
there was no sign that the last month and a half of no
running had promoted any healing. The only way to
allow it to heal would be eight weeks of zero weightbearing
activity.
Lesson #22: Life can still be an
adventure
Knowing it was still a long road to recovery, I had to
do something crazy in order to maintain my sanity.
So, I decided I was going to climb a mountain, on
crutches. Doctor’s orders were “non-weight-bearing,”
so as long as I kept weight off the leg and was careful
not to fall, I was not breaking any rules. Or any more
bones. A long list of friends and colleagues gave
me flack about doing this, but I knew Sean always
believed in, and supported my madness. So much
so, that when I suggested the climb up Elsie’s peak,
he got himself a pair of crutches and experienced the
climb just as I did.
It was a beautiful Summer morning. Cool, light breeze,
cloudy with a small sprinkle of rain. A 220m elevated
climb and total of 4km took us around 2.5 hours. It
was not as tough as I expected, but it was indeed a
challenge that I will be in no rush to do again. I had
to focus on where I placed the crutches on the really
rocky areas, but moving very slowly and carefully
also allowed me time to take in and appreciate what
nature was exhibiting that day. For a moment, I forgot
that I was injured and was just consumed by the
extraordinary feeling of being on a mountain again.
Sean supplied hot chocolate at the summit, where we
sat watching lizards snack on flies, with the ocean and
distant mountains as a backdrop. With the assistance
of gravity and motivated by the promise of Sean’s
mom, Jillian’s baked treats waiting for us back home,
the descent was a ‘piece of cake’ (relatively speaking,
and pun once again intended).
Lesson #23: Adapt or die
Frustrating, is an understatement, in describing life
on crutches. It wasn’t just not being able to use my
leg that was difficult, but also the fact that both arms
were occupied in carrying my crippled-self around
too. If I wanted to do something as simple as take a
bottle of water from the fridge to my bedroom, I had
to shove it in my bra, in a backpack, or hop on one leg
so that I had a free hand to hold it.
Midnight toilet trips were a nightmare, a cup of tea
had to be consumed in the confines of the kitchen,
and when picking up the dog poo with the poopscoop,
I looked like a blind spider playing croquet.
Things that would take five minutes before, now took
25 minutes, but there were certain things that I simply
could not do. I live on my own, so I had to take my
self-dependence to a whole new level, and accept
that this was how my life was going to be for the next
two months.
Tantrums were thrown in abundance at the start, with
crutches being tossed across the room in episodes of
rage because I’d dropped my keys for the 311th time
that day. Eventually, however, my good leg became
really strong and my evolved ability to hop allowed
me to do a little more every day. I also found creative,
innovative ways to get things done. For example, I’d
adorn myself and my crutches with my washing to
get it to and from the line, and I’d transport my tea in
increments along the floor to enjoy it in an area beyond
the kitchen. Inspired by African predator’s techniques
for carrying their young, I also developed the ability to
relocate a variety of items using my mouth!
Lesson #24: It is okay to ask for help
Inevitably, the fridge would become bare and food
scarce. Intervention was required when I was
combining the remains in the fridge with select
canned foods, resulting in tuna and pickled beetroot
salads for breakfast. In these desperate times, I would
enter Pick n Pay with confidence, shove a cucumber
in my pants – still visible, so it did not look like I was
stealing – and carry one whole bagged chicken in
each hand, with its respective crutch, and hobble to
the till to pay.
I finally accepted the ridiculousness of my efforts and
put my pride aside and asked Tammy for help. She
was awesome in doing my shopping, the occasional
cook, clean and load of washing, and providing
endless entertainment and laughs along the way,
especially appreciated on the most difficult days.
It was work that had been the greatest challenge. I
was unable to do about 90% of my job, and had to
rely on volunteers, interns and co-workers for help.
Being a self-motivated, independent worker, I was
forced to master the art of delegation. I still spent a lot
of time up and down stairs and around the Aquarium
to follow up on delegated tasks and check that all
was in order. Most of my colleagues went above and
beyond to help me, and for them I am so grateful.
However, there were select people, with little capacity
for sympathy and an impressive ability to make
assumptions with their “you brought this on yourself”
attitude, that really made work unbearable at times. I
became exhausted by these people, and the crutches.
My shoulders started taking strain, then my wrists
were in pain, and the good foot was starting to hurt,
too. About three weeks into recovery, I bent down
to reach for the peanut butter, and my back went
into a debilitating spasm. I could not move without
excruciating pain!
I cried a little, in both pain and panic, and then
managed to get myself to the couch. Being unable
to bend at all, I kept my body upright and fell
90-degrees, a face-planting plank, onto the bed. Even
the slightest movement in reaching for my phone was
agonising, but I managed to message Tammy to let
her know that something was not right with my back,
and she came through immediately. I was hoping the
pain would subside but instead it escalated, reaching
an intolerable level. Tammy insisted on taking me to
the emergency room, and after an assessment by a
nurse, then a doctor, I was placed on a paracetamol
drip, monitored for a few hours, and then released
with a prescription of pain pills.
After all the time on the crutches, certain muscles had
been working harder, while others were not working at
all, so my back just packed up amongst the chaos of
injury compensation and the redistributing of weight.
The next day, I was still in pain, but by the third day, it
was as if nothing had happened.
Ironic way to
attend Fish Hoek
Athletics Club
Awards Dinner
47