THE HERO'S JOURNEY IS THE CRAWL: THE ATHLETE’S GUIDE TO RESILIENCE
When I was younger, I was haunted by the thought that I didn’t know my limit. At what point would my mind stop me from pushing my body, and where would I find the end of what I was capable of? I always imagined a snowy, cold field. Footsteps covered by gale-force winds as soon as I broke through the wind-whipped crust. Ice dangling from the bit of hair I called a beard, fingers stinging from the cold, and toes long ago numb. At what point would I say that is enough and give up? Would it be the moment the narrowing vision collapsed into a single point, my body falling in the snow and struggling for each step until the end? Or would it be a break in my spirit that caused me to simply lay down? I always hoped that it would be the former.
As I’ve gotten older and been knocked down my fair share, I’ve learned that the true measure of a person isn't found at the absolute maximum of a single effort. I’m sure there are people who, in some catastrophe, found the courage to keep going through circles of hell I can’t imagine that in the end defined them. But for me, it has been a series of smaller, significant blows—injuries where most wouldn’t blame me if I stayed down. The repeated rise is where I have proved my mettle, or at least my bone headedness.
What my younger self never considered was what comes after the fall. What happens when your body is broken and the healing journey is measured not in weeks, but in months, years, or a lifetime? I didn't understand that the real hero's journey isn't about whether you can stand up to the fight; it’s about whether you can crawl, always moving forward until you can stand up again, no matter how many times you get set back.
Seven weeks ago, I went in for my second shoulder surgery, with a recovery time spanning six to ten months. In this time of crawl, I wanted to share the lessons I've learned over the many injuries that have taught me how to keep moving forward.
1. Ground Zero: Allow Time to Rest and Let the Emotions Settle
My latest setback—a shoulder dislocation—happened during a race at Snoqualmie Pass. During my seeding lap, the adrenaline was high, and I came into a soft right-hand corner too fast. My braking point was too late for the increased speed, and when the front tire dug into the soft dirt, the support just wasn't there. After a short tumble, the familiar feeling of needles and immobility took over. My shoulder had come out again.
I'll spare the trauma of the excruciating three-hour journey out. In those moments, like many before, it’s hard not to stop and wonder what I’m doing to myself, or to feel like my dreams have shattered worse than my glenoid. It’s easy to swear I’m done. A large traumatic experience is enough to keep many from returning to the sport they fell in love with.
I urge you to stay away from the claims you might so desperately want to make. Spoken words have immense power, and the words you speak in this instant of pain are likely to become your tomorrow’s reality. Take a beat. Let the emotions pour through your body. The waves will come and go, but the sea will calm over time. Don't fight the feelings; experience them so you can begin to heal your mind alongside your body. There is plenty of time to make long-term decisions from a place of peace and rest.
2. Adjust the Map, Not the Mission: Pivot and Take the First Step
Inevitably, a large injury will have a massive effect on your life, from basic mobility to work and your social life. For avid athletes, it can feel like your whole world is passing you by while you're stuck on pause. The constant group chats about rides and social media stories only deepen that feeling of being left behind. The stages of injury are not dissimilar to the stages of grief; after all, you might feel that the person you have lost is yourself.
Once you’ve reached the stage of acceptance, it's time to adjust your expectations. An overly ambitious mind is as dangerous as the slow, creeping depression caused by stagnation. To quote Jimmy Carr, "Happiness is your current situation minus expectation."
You are not the first human to heal, and you probably aren’t Deadpool or Wolverine either. Set realistic expectations and goals for your recovery. Allow for breathing room, as healing will come as it comes. Setting timelines too short will only lead to missed goals and disappointment. The return to sport is a marathon of incremental change.
Armed with a realistic plan, you can attack the parts of life that you can control. I’m not one to take it easy, and past the first few days of recovery, I don’t think you should either. If you can walk, walk. If you can ride a knee scooter, go for a scooter ride. Moving your body, even in whatever limited way, will make you stronger and your mind healthier. Use this opportunity to focus on another aspect of your life—an area that was likely pushed aside for training and bike maintenance. Endorse those areas where you can make progress, like, I don't know... writing a blog? ;)
3. Find the Love: Keep Yourself in the Community
The hardest part for me any time I get injured is the loss of community. The people that I race and ride with are like family; they make up the closest part of my social circle. Each time I get hurt, I don’t just miss the ride, I miss the people. The lack of laughter, smiles, teasing, and healthy competition can hurt just as much as the injury itself.
Following my first shoulder surgery a few years ago, I didn’t let the show go on without me. I showed up to every Northwest Cup race across Washington, Oregon, and Idaho with a camera and a smile, just to be part of the community. The next best thing to doing what you love is supporting those who also love doing it.
Most everyone wants to welcome you back into the fold, even if it is just your turn to be a bystander and race support. We can’t do this alone. It is impossible to expect everyone to come to your bedside the entire time you're in recovery, so you still have to put yourself out there. The mountain bike and racing communities, through my lived experience, are truly something special. Do whatever you can to keep yourself involved in it. You'll be thankful you did, no matter how hard it felt to get there.
Injuries are traumatic, hard to deal with, and heartbreaking. Everyone will have their own process and journey—it is full of ups and downs, triumphs and failures, progress and setbacks. Like many things in life, this is not a journey someone else can take for you. Each day of the unfortunate circumstance of injury is an opportunity to prove to yourself who you are or who you want to be, refusing to yield and succumbing to the cold. Only you are the one who has to master the terrible thing that has happened and decide how to continue your own crawl forward. I can only hope that you’re like what I always wanted to be: fighting for each step and each inch until your vision closes in and you can’t push anymore.
Hope to see you all at the races.
-Coleton Moon
