Entry 2: It's time to remain positive
If you have nothing positive to say, then don’t say anything at all.
Nobody likes a whinger so I’ve been putting off this second diary entry until I knew I was at a point where I felt I had something valuable to contribute. For those who don’t know, I will not be running at the Commonwealth Games this year due to surgery on my Achilles last Tuesday. These last 13 days, as I’ve tried to maintain sanity by attempting to break the speed of sound or at least the warm-down speed of a race-walker while on crutches, have shaped as a rather reflective period. I am far from the only person in this holey boat and I’m sure my situation mirrors that of the many people on the athletics raggy doll pile at present, but I am happy to say I’ve now stopped looking at my leg, and have instead started looking at the possibilities that lie ahead. We’re not sure if the surgery has fixed everything yet, only Paul the Octopus knows the answer to that, but until I get a chance to test it, I’ll assume I’m good to start building and I’m going to roll with that thought. I therefore don’t seek sympathy from people relating to my missing the Games, instead being excitedly and solely focused on seeing what the forced extended base can deliver towards the important seasons to come.
If I can pass on one piece of advice to youngsters regarding times when nothing seems to have gone as planned, it would be to try to stop the feelings of chaos as soon as possible, to sit and think for a moment and to always try to find those hidden positives stemming from each situation. For example, I figured having surgery should, in theory, have meant getting to hang out with nurses all day. Perhaps more interestingly, having all my luggage stolen in Melbourne the week before allowed Jess Rothwell to make the great call that at least I didn’t have to check in any baggage now...
An extension of this concept is a piece of advice I received recently from a wise friend who taught me that no matter what cards life deals you, it is still you that determines how you choose to feel about them. There’s nothing I’d rather be doing in October than running in Delhi but it’s not to be this year so instead of resenting others who do get to compete, I’m spending the next few months attempting to get as strong as morning breath, as fit as the fiddle and the cat, and as advanced in the core as the fabled duck inside the chicken inside the turkey.
As I previously alluded, I am friends with many great people who have had to overcome some pretty severe long-term injuries. If the inspirational Nathan Deakes, Craig Mottram or Jana Rawlinson can still throw their everything into the Olympic dream after years of injury and all their achievements, then my plight to do likewise is comparatively miniscule.
As Dale (Stevenson) recently stated, there is something uniquely special about our sport that makes it the only one we’d ever choose to commit to. Athletics is so often completely devoid of external reward, being as cut throat as they come, but rather than be put off by the ease at which our bodies crumble under loads, it is this unrelenting pressure on us to push our limits that I believe compels us to keep pressing forward. No better examples illustrate this notion than Western Australian decathlete Erik Surjan and his slowly recovering, now steal-rod filled, snapped fibula and tibia, or by high jumper Josh Lodge, who after seven years defying chronic injury, resurged this year to twice clear the Commonwealth Games B-standard height.
As proposed by the recent hit movie Inception, there is nothing stronger then the complete faith in an idea, and if you want something worthwhile, you’re going to have to fight for it.
I’m just extremely fortunate to be fighting alongside the men and women at the Australian Institute of Sport in Canberra. Though at times the Institute can be a target for criticism, the team I have around me, stemming down even to those pesky swimmers who laugh as I use their pool, are so much more than professionals, they are family to me and I have complete faith in the idea that we are going to be talking back on the track very soon.
With this in mind, let the Australian Flame burn out of control over in Delhi, I’m sure you’ll all make your ‘mummies’ and ‘daddies’ proud and I’ll see you all next season. It’s cross training time.
Tristan
