If you follow me on Instagram, you know something is up with my back. Well, here's the story.
Lalala, Tuesday morning. I'm tired. My back is tight (I've had back issues ever since I started biking 3 times a week), so I'm sitting in the sauna and doing some mobility stuff to loosen it up and work out the junk.
I finally get to my WOD, a brutal one involving a lot of hang cleans that were a little on the heavier side for me. My back is kind of tweaking out afterwards, I ignore it.
In the 2nd WOD I had planned, there were a few bodyweight deadlifts. So I though, hmm, let's test the strength waters, eh? I load up my bar with a few warm up sets at my body weight, 125. Feels comfy and light. I decide to work up a 2-2-2-2-2-ish kind of deal.
165 x 2
200 x 2
215 x 2
225 x 2
235 x 2! PR big time, baby!
I was so excited, I felt pretty damn comfortable getting 235 up twice. But, I knew it was my endorphins and my pride, because when I added another 10 pounds to the bar (dumbass! I should have gone up in increments of 5 at this point), I totally blew my back.
Everything was great up until I got the bar to about my knees, and I heard a loud POP in my L2. Dropped the bar faster than lighting, and rolled onto the ground and brought my knees up to my chest, terrified of what I'd just done.
Ruptured a disc?
Cracked a vertebrae?
Did I just break my back?
Of course, everyone starts pouring into the gym right at this moment. I'm laughing, smiling, giggling to myself as people walk up and ask me "what's up?" and "hey girl, you're WODing already, damn!" like they do every morning.
"Oh, no big deal, just popped my back a bit. Got a new PR though!"
I stand up in what I think to be the most normal way possible, but I'm pretty sure I look like someone standing up that has a broken back. I'm rubbing the spot with a hard knuckle, a fake smile plastered on my face to mask the pain. I'm saying hi to people, collecting my things, wiping sweat off my brow, turning off my watch, writing down in my WOD book, trying to hold back tears, trying to shut up the voice in my head that's screaming at me, "You're SCREWED!"
I imagine myself in a full body cast, fat, out of shape, pathetic ...
I hurry up to get out of the gym.
This is one of the random and pleasant mornings my husband decides to come WOD with us, he's there and knows something is wrong. He puts my bar away quickly, cleans up, and mentions that we should get home because he has to be to work early. Everyone is sad, concerned, nice. I give them a big, toothy smile and a thumbs up!
Sitting in the car, I'm running through everything I could have done. Why I didn't get a belt. Why I didn't scale it. Why I didn't add weight in 5 lb increments. My damn pride. My damn ego.
When we get home, I'm scrambling to find pain meds. When I get into the bathroom, I have to drop to my knees, and the pain is so unbearable, I begin to sob. My back hurts so badly, I can't take my shoes off or my clothes. My husband has to undress me.
Oh, look at little miss hardcore now - dead lifting 235, but can't take her own damn socks off?
I feel pathetic, weak, humiliated and so angry.
After the shower and some words of encouragement from my husband, we set up a comfortable spot on the floor for me and started a regimen of heat and ice, round the clock.
Thank God it's better today. My husband stayed home from work and nursed me yesterday. Fed me soup, listened to my worst fears,
"I'll never Crossfit again."
"I'm going to get fat."
"Oh no, I'm going to have to ride the elliptical."
The medicine I was taking (stuff left over from when I hurt my back a few months ago and didn't use), made me incredibly ill. I was puking my brains out. The world was spinning. Cold sweats. Just imagine everything terrible and that was me, yesterday.
I was deep, deep, deep in the Pain Cave.
Funny thing about sleep and time, things get better as time goes on and the body has a chance to gasp, heal!
I went shopping. :)
Lululemon at the Domain!
Too cute, right? Since the last time I've been to Lulu, my shoulders have become so much broader, I had to jump up a size. Hurt my pride a little, but I have to accept that I'm getting stronger, and not fatter. Those are lats and not pockets of fat. Those are my back muscles, and not layers of fat. Getting stronger is amazing, but makes clothes shopping challenging, without a doubt.
I have an appointment to see my doctor in the morning. I will keep you guys updated. In the meantime, I'm laying low from the CF gym, and resting. I think I'll step into Gold's tomorrow if my Doc tells me it's nothing serious.
Keep my broken back and I in your prayers, eh?