JP Schweizer
Professor Bird
EN 101-024
24 September 2021
An Unexpected Moment
The deadlift is the most difficult and helpful weightlifting exercise ever developed. It uses all the muscles with a particular emphasis on the hamstrings and lower back. My feet were shoulder length apart. Chest out, back straight, I was halfway through my set. Suddenly a loud pop on the uplift sounded from my back. The bar felt like it was on fire and I quickly dropped it from my hands. I could not straighten up. I could not bend over. The pain shot from my lower back into my hips and legs. Kneeling on the rubber matted floor made me realize this might not have been just a “tweak.” I felt something was seriously wrong, but I’d had painful moments in the past and always worked through them.
~
It was the summer before my freshman year of high school with the basketball season approaching. Preparing non-stop, I was ready to take on the summer league. Strenuous workouts and practices had me constantly on my feet, giving me little to no time for friends and fun, except with my teammates. Basketball was my top priority, my only sport, my passion. Nothing came between me and my time in the gym: the sweat of brutal training sessions, the pungent smell of the locker room, the squeak of sneakers on the hardwood of the court. I loved the speed, the skill, the competition, and the camaraderie. On days off I would find pick-up games or make up games for myself. Shooting coaches, weight coaches, camps, and my resolve to practice for 10,000 hours to become an ‘expert’ filled my days. I became addicted to the game, sacrificing academics and dreaming only of competing at the collegiate level.
One exercise, The Deadlift, ended all those hopes and dreams.
~
Although my back and leg muscles felt like a constant current of electricity was pulsing through them, I simply did not think much of it. I was naive. For a couple of days, I tried to work through the pain and continue through the league. Finally, one night in practice as we played five on five, I had to walk off the court in the middle of a game. My coach knew this was unusual, and in his low, gruff voice said, “JP, you never walk out on a game.” I told him my back and legs were in fiery pain and told him about my deadlift. His tone quickly changed, as he understood the health of his future starting shooting guard had been compromised. He talked to my parents in search of a temporary solution. They used every resource available, even taking me to Boston Children’s Hospital to meet with a renowned pediatric back doctor.
MRIs indicated exactly what my parents and I expected–a broken back and swollen tissue. I was immediately fitted into an inflexible back brace that reached from right below my waist up to my chest. I had to wear it almost 24 hours a day for eighteen months. It was hot, uncomfortable, and affected my schoolwork drastically.
All my teammates and coaches were sympathetic and concerned, but over time I simply became an afterthought. They had moved on with the season and their lives; I had not. I dreamed of getting back on the court, but as this dream faded, I was left lonely and felt forgotten. What I thought was going to be a fun, competitive learning experience was over for me. Surprisingly, I harbored no animosity towards my teammates or coaches. In retrospect, it was one of the biggest life lessons I could ever have learned.
With all hopes of having a fruitful basketball career suddenly dashed, it was time to heal. Physical therapy, stretches, and continuous visits to a variety of doctors were time consuming and painful. I had a nagging fear this dilemma would never end. Yet after a dreadful eighteen months the brace was in the garbage. My weight was down, my muscles significantly weaker, and I certainly lacked the stamina to even take a mile jog.
As I turned to ask the universe why this had happened, I began to put all the blame on myself. I slowly began beating myself up over things that were out of my control and surely not my fault. This attitude destroyed my self-esteem and discouraged me from getting back on my feet again. Realizing these “problems” were caused by frustration and immaturity were simply out of the picture until a few years down the road.
My ordeal dealt me pain and confusion. I came out the other end with purpose despite taking two and a half years to find resolution. For an extensive period, I felt helpless and lost. I learned life can change in a minute, even seconds. I finally came to understand a person cannot be consumed by problems; they must work to overcome them. My biggest life lesson resulting from this disaster was this: When faced with adversity, do not cower. Instead, look straight ahead and overcome whatever life throws your way. I will never say my injury was a blessing in disguise, but it has helped give me a different perspective toward life, and without it I would not have the tools I have today to overcome challenges in my life.