"Wiggle Your Big Toe"

Recently I was sitting in a volunteer training at Judi's House, where I do some volunteer work, and we discussed emotional triggers. The discussion reminded me of an important one for me (completely self inflicted) in relation to athletics and injuries.

You remember that scene from Kill Bill where Uma Thurman is in the back of the truck, paralyzed and trying to will herself to move? She keeps repeating over and over again "Wiggle Your Big Toe" until her toe finally budges a fraction of an inch, thus rendering her free to move, kick, punch and slice her way to victory?

I can totally relate...and not because I've been paralyzed in the back of some dude's pickup truck. (5th Amendment)

In 2004 (I was 24 at the time), I slipped the L4-L5 and L5-S1 discs during a weightlifting workout. A smarter man would've taken time off, rehabbed and lived to fight another day. Being that I am, in fact, NOT a smarter man, I played through a season of rugby while training 4 days a week for powerlifting. Playing in the front row for rugby while also pulling/squatting for a max every Monday night is not conducive to lower back rehab and I developed some serious sciatica in my right leg.

At this time, I was also finishing my undergrad in sports medicine at Colorado State University and interning in the weight room. This entailed being on my feet coaching from around 11am until 4-5pm, at which time I would either head to Denver for rugby training or train with one of the other coaches. I've never felt pain like I did in those days of being on my feet; I actually chipped a tooth from grinding my teeth. That is not a badge of honor and pride; it's a badge of stupidity and ego.

Fast forward 9 months: I get an MRI after the rugby season ends and take it to one of the orthopedic surgeons at CSU. He has me take off my shoes, looks at the MRI, palpates my spine and puts me through some balance tests, which I fail spectacularly (go big or go home). He then asks me to stand on both feet and raise the big toe on my right foot.

Nothing. Not even a twitch of life.

I flexed my foot with every fiber of my being. The other four toes moved off of the ground easily, but the big toe mind as well have been glued to the ground. The resulting conversation was award-winning movie dialogue:

"I can't move my toe"
-Nope
"That is not good."
-Nope

From that day up until the day I went in for microdiscectomy (day before Thanksgiving in 2005), I would constantly test my big toe. From the time I awoke to the time I went to sleep, I would test it and try to make it move. It's the very first thing I did once I woke up post-op in the recovery room and I still do it from time to time because it sets off that cacade of memories in my mind. That surgery is a story unto itself (including my first and only experience with a catheder), but that experience of not being able to move something simple like a toe has stuck with me. The phrase "Lift Your Toe" is something that goes through my mind at key points in my life, both in and out of the gym.

Athletically speaking (both physically and mentally), recovering from surgery is one of the toughest things I've done. I went from limping and not able to stand upright pain free to getting back to playing high level rugby, going to camp with USA Bobsled, competing in athletics and just living a (semi) pain free life. When I'm dragging and hurting and I don't want to train, I always remember the times when I couldn't lift my big toe. It's an emotional trigger for me and it conjures up images of the pre-op days lying on my girlfriend's kitchen floor and the post-op days when I needed a grabber arm to get dressed and when my only activity came from pacing laps in my 600 sq ft apartment. Vasily Alexeyev (one of the greatest weightlifters of all time) said this (from Elitefts.com):

"It seems to me that some of the talented athletes lack one thing-- they
haven't had an injury. That's right!  An injury that will put them out of
commission for a year during which time they'll have a chance to weigh every-
thing.  I, too, would not be where I am if I had not injured my back.  I
suffered for a year and a half thinking everything over ... After a
misfortune, people pull through and become, if possible, great people -- and
sportsmen, in particular. Those who are stronger find their way out and to
the top.
The past can be a very powerful tool in your arsenal, if used appropriately. Athletes tend to focus on the "glory days" while forgetting the dark days and time spent rehabilitating from injury. Rehab and recovery from an injury is one of the toughest things that an athlete will do; it forces you to weigh everything in your life when you make the "Do I or Don't I" decision. Don't forget about those days when you're laid up on crutches or in a sling; those are the times when you really had to weigh everything. Those are the turning points, the times when you decided to really go to work.

Just Lift Your Toe.