My team and I were at training camp in Chula Vista, California when I developed a pain in my lower back, but initially brushed it off as a sore muscle.
It was common to be in pain all the time, as a Division 1 rower. But the pain had gotten to a point where I could not carry my boat up the dock with my teammates, because the lifting motion of putting it on my shoulder was excruciating. I felt guilty because I could see that my teammates were annoyed that I "wasn't carrying my weight".
It wasn’t until I had survived Big 12’s and trained at home, laying semi-paralyzed with pain on the dock, that I went home for an MRI. The surgeon found that I had not one, but two bulging discs in my lower lumbar. I was devastated that I had only completed one year of collegiate athletics and my career may come to a halt. It was decided that I would redshirt, and sit the rest of the season out.
During my redshirt year, I missed being at boathouse practices with the team, I missed the friendships I had established, all of the hard training we endured together. I wanted to continue bonding with the team that I love, I wanted to feel heard and welcomed. But with all of the free time I had to think, I began to spiral. My mind would wander in places that they shouldn’t have. I could not understand why I was being not only physically punished, but mentally punished as well.
I had another MRI, the results had shown a progression. The visit with my doctor was not so optimistic– and ultimately established that my athletic career was over. Walking into practices and seeing my teammates with their friend groups and laughter was even more gut-wrenching, as I felt I was no longer in their circle. Dealing with a career-ending injury while also feeling so alone is purely depression.
I questioned what do I do with my life now? After putting all my identity into rowing and being an athlete for as long as I can remember. But I realized, whether now or later, my athletic career would end, I just needed to accept that my time had come.
The point in sharing this story is to be aware that your identity is not in your sport. It must come from something greater. For those who are lonely and facing depression as student-athlete, know that even in the midst of the worst things, there will always be a good outcome on the horizon. I never realized the importance of mental health until I suffered this injury, and now I am a passionate advocate for it.
For those who are feeling alone after career-ending injuries, I hope this story reaches you. Supporting yourself and your mental health in life after athletics is so important. A successful team should be cognizant of each teammate’s individual well-being.
Please take care of yourselves, you really do matter!
