The windows in the room lined the upper reaches of the ceiling, enough to let plenty of light in the room, but not big enough or low enough to let us see anything below the blue sky line. My sister sat in an office-grade recliner with blue plastic covering, and I sat in a matching chair, without the reclining function. The machines beeped every so often as either my sister or one of the other patients finished their bags of drugs: benadryl, saline, dextrose, various concoctions of chemotherapy. At times, I could tell by the winces on my sister’s face and the faces of the other patients that the process hurt. Other times, we talked as if there weren’t lines of poison draining into veins as a weapon to kill other types of poison already creeping in the body. Most of the time, however, those lines filled with what my sister calls “the death drug” were difficult to ignore.
A diagnosis of cancer could be enough to encourage some to quit, to lose hope, to despair. Despite the suck-fest that is cancer, so many choose to push on, to battle. They don’t quit. Throughout the 3 hours or so that one or another drug dripped into my sister’s body, I was witness to and humbled by the awesome vulnerability and resiliency of human beings. Here were people who were fighting, testing and pushing past obstacles–even at a moment of extreme vulnerability. Here were people who have accepted no other option but to endure courageously. Push past the pain. Visualize the end result of a healthy body. It seems to me that athletes have much to learn from these fighters. After all, it is not just in times of disease or sickness that we are vulnerable. Those dire circumstances simply highlight what is always already the case for every human being.
Four months of dedicated Ironman training have made me stronger, harder and faster than I have ever been in my life. I have not only found my inner athlete, I have reclaimed her. I own my identity as an athlete. Most days, I hardly recognize my own body, and I am happily surprised by my abilities to push past previous limits of speed and distance.
Yet, at the very moment that appears to be my pinnacle of strength and stamina, I am acutely aware of my vulnerability, and of the vulnerability of every human body and mind.
While vulnerability is typically considered to be problematic, a recognition that we are vulnerable–and the fact that this is the unavoidable counterpart to strength and vitality–can be an important source of mental and physical growth.
Over the past few weeks, I’ve spent a fair amount of time mulling over my vulnerability. Oh, poor pity me. I hurt my hamstring. I fell off my bike. Luckily, there is another side to these moments of weakness. When confronted with various mental and physical challenges, I have adapted; I have found ways to grow. Despite my sister’s diagnosis of a fast-moving, invasive type of breast cancer, she adapted, and while the cancer has stopped growing (thankfully!), her will, her strength, her resiliency has been fortified. While the fight she fights is much more dire and grave than my own, I am learning from her strength despite our inherent vulnerability.
But, this measure of strength and resiliency requires active engagement on our part. While no struggle is easy–or guaranteed to end in our favor–the process can be just as valuable as the end result. Here’s some of what I’ve learned as a result of the toggles and tugs between vulnerability and resiliency:
Don’t dwell on the problem. At times, I have a tendency to let my brain get mired in a laundry list of worries and anxieties. This does me no good, and frequently leads to bouts of insomnia. When I stop dwelling on the problem, I start working toward the goal. I realize the possibilities, not the problems. Likewise, my sister keeps moving on: work, school, life.
Don’t go it alone. Rely on a community for support. I am lucky that my husband John is a purebred optimist, and helps me find my optimism and strength when I need it most. I return the favor as much as possible. Likewise, my sister relies on a community of support to help her through the troubled times. It is important to receive and give help. Share with others. Learn from their strengths. Help them in their times of vulnerability.
Visualize a positive end result. I like to daydream about finish lines, about what it will feel like to accomplish training and racing goals. I find that at moments when I start to think about a problem, I can reverse that process by imagining how it will feel to cross the finish line as the announcer says, “Maria, you are an IRONMAN!” Ooh, I just got chills 🙂 My sister has had the benefit of getting a very positive MRI report, which showed that the cancer is GONE. G.O.N.E. GONE. How’s that for positive visualization?
Think in terms of small goals or small steps. When the overarching goal seems impossible or too far out of reach, break it down into smaller goals or steps. It’s not 112 miles on the bike. It’s 2 x 56 mile sets, or 4 x 28 mile sets. Or whatever helps you recognize how manageable the distance, the effort is. For my sister, this has meant taking each treatment separately. Each test as a new milestone in her progress toward wellness. Then, when we achieve the smaller goals, we need to celebrate them! This helps with motivation, as well as with staying positive and resilient.
Give yourself a pep talk. During challenging moments, or at times when I am nervous (such as right before a race or a challenging training session), I give myself a pep talk. OUT LOUD. Yes, audibly. I have found that these pep talks are much more effective when I hear them. I say things like, “You got this, girl!” or “Check you out, you rock!” In other words, I say to myself the words of encouragement I usually reserve for other people. And, sometimes, I’m not afraid to administer a bit of tough love, if need be. “C’mon now, keep it together, and push past this. Enjoy the suffer!”
Don’t let the negative voices win the argument. Despite best efforts to stay positive, negative voices do creep in. But, you have to work actively to counteract them. John and I have a rule: when we say something negative about ourselves, we have to counter it with 5 specific positive statements about ourselves. It’s important that these positive statements are SPECIFIC. (Note: this idea isn’t original to us; we got it from Don Fink’s book, Be Iron Fit.) I have tried to be vigilant in responding to the negative voices in my head using this method. Over time, it makes a difference! Another great trick: when you feel low, at your breaking point even, smile. It will feel fake at first, but if you keep at it the positive vibration from your smiling lips will spread to your brain, and the rest of your body.
DON’T QUIT. Just don’t. Adapt. Work around difficulties. You might not be able to accomplish the goal in the manner you wanted to originally, but you can STILL DO IT. Keep moving in the direction of your goals, your dreams. Then, once you reach a goal, dream up a new one. Learn new vulnerabilities. Find new sources of strength. But, don’t quit.
Each of us is vulnerable, yes. But, we are simultaneously resilient in ways we might not realize. Find your way. Be resilient.
