Tough Call

This week I had to make a very unpleasant decision. I had to withdraw from the Head of the Charles Regatta due to an injury. I had an entry that many seek, and few get; it is a race that would have been the highlight of my rowing year. At first it seemed like some rest and intelligent training would get me through what appeared to be an overuse imbalance. It has become apparent that my need for rehabilitation is far greater than I understood; it is likely an old injury only now being unearthed by my PT. The realization, and the resulting decision to withdraw, was hard and painful to come by, but it has allowed me to think very hard about what it means to be a trainer, a coach, and an athlete.

Trainer. 

Whether they know it or not, my clients are placing their physical well being in my hands every time we work out. If I am not spending every moment fully focused on training my clients safely, then I am not respecting that responsibility, the most ennobbling one I have as a personal trainer. Had I chosen to take a risk and row in that race, in spite of worsening pain, what message would I be sending them if it resulted in further injury? How would I be able to advocate the benefits of exercise; the importance of safely pushing one’s physical boundaries? Would they be able to trust me with their well being during exercise if I was unable to knowingly avoid injury myself? I think not. 

Coach.

Similar to being a trainer, as a coach, I need to model exemplary behavior to my athletes, safety being the first priority. When I looked at my decision externally, through the eyes of a coach, the answer was clear. Would I ever force an athlete to get in a boat and row a race, after they had reported increasing pain, the origin of which was not quite clear? Would I push a student the way I was considering pushing myself? 

Never. Period. 

Perhaps this had to happen so that, if I am ever faced with that decision, I know I can trust myself to make that tough decision. Even better, I will know exactly how that athlete will feel; empathy may actually help me to offer consolation that won’t ring hollow. Now I can just hope I don’t ever have to cross that bridge. 

Athlete.

What is my responsibility as an athlete? Simply put, good sportsmanship. All too often we think of sportsmanship in abstract terms, honorable but ill defined. Does it really have definite qualities? Most certainly. Sportsmanship is nothing more than respect for fellow competitors, officials, and the integrity of the sporting event. Knowingly competing with an incompletely healed injury would have violated that respect. At best, I would have competed unsure I was doing so at the peak of my abilities. At worst, it could have resulted in my sudden inability to row mid race. I would have become an obstacle to others’ ability to perform their best, a headache for officials, and a liability for the event. 

 

Yes, I have done right by my profession. 

Yes, I have done right by my sport. 

Yes, I have done right by my body. 

Yes, I can now focus on getting better. 

Yes, it feels pretty crappy right now.

We all want to believe that we can recover or heal following timelines that fit into our training; get us well in time for a competition. Sometimes we can, sometimes we cannot. That is life. Now I respect the expression ‘listen to your body’. 

I sure hope it finds a way to thank me over the next year!