At the Nova Scotia Rehabilitation Center, there is a rowing erg. This sticks out, with most traffic being on equipment like the parallel bars, practice stairs or ellipticals. The rowing erg was more of a natural addition to the gym in the CSCA, where I trained previous to my bout with meningitis. As an athlete, I’ve represented Senobe, Nova Scotia, and Canada across my country and in multiple others.
At the beginning of 2017, the day before I was to leave for the year’s first training camp in Florida, I sought medical attention for some odd symptoms that came on after going for a New Year’s Day flush out run. Within a few days, I was admitted, sedated, and intubated at the Halifax Infirmary, the beginning of an 80-day journey where I was pushed to my absolute limits physically and mentally. I quickly lost about 40 pounds and was torn away from any physical independence. It was a long time before I was able to get myself from bed to wheelchair.
I contracted bacterial meningitis, which targets the protective layering of the brain and spinal cord called meninges. Neisseria Meningitidis entered my bloodstream, penetrated the blood-brain barrier, and attacked my nervous system. With my brain being attacked, and a spinal lesion that couldn’t be identified by my brilliant neurologist, my family was told I probably wouldn’t walk again.
From the very beginning of my time fighting off the infection, I was told that my fitness was critical to beating the disease. What I didn’t know was how important my recovery from meningitis would be to my return to training.
By the time I was an in-patient at rehab, I had mastered the transfer. Before, I could only leave my bed with the assistance of two or three nurses, and early on that required a special lift machine. This machine was only used between certain hours designated for getting people like me out of bed, and then back in when my tolerance to stay up ran thin.
I climbed my way through the ranks. Transfers, standing, taking steps, high walker on to a normal walker, moving with a cane, and eventually no mobility aids. Before all these things could happen, I had to work up my endurance just to sit in my wheelchair. Ever since I was transferred to rehab, I was looking forward to hopping on the erg. Just like old times.
Old times were actually much different though. At rehab I didn’t have a guy watching over my shoulder telling me to keep the pace down. Exercising is a lot different coming back from an illness like meningitis. It was very hard for me to have such reduced expectations and abilities.
Not being able to do things nearly as well as when I was a high-performance athlete is ridiculous, but it still comes up. These moments happen, and the only fix is accepting it. I always understood how far I had come, but I’m in a completely different world now. All I could do was struggle through the stage of being bad at everything. That’s part of the process, not a fun part but an important one.
Even though I already was closer to where I want to be now in terms of fitness, the feeling of being far off where I want to be is similar to never having it at all. I was familiar with things but still experiencing them as if I never had, like I was just starting.
As an athlete, I always felt more inclined to avoid certain things because I wasn’t good at them. Being part of a training group, you see individuals perform especially well in certain areas, and sometimes having everyone’s time read out, or following up a feat of strength that is above your ability hurts the ego. For a lot of people, the comparison of self to others is very difficult. There are times to channel that feeling to fuel improvement and perform at a new level, but ultimately everything is about being better than your former self. The sense of accomplishment must come from improving yourself, not just beating others. Winning is a product of personal improvement. Improvement comes best with a positive mindset. Physical development is individual and should be treated as such, where the only input that matters is constructive. A sense of embarrassment towards starting is not a reason to avoid bettering yourself.
Think of where you want to be, and do whatever it takes to get there. I decided that being so physically debilitated meant I had nowhere to go but up. All I could do was show up to physio and occupational therapy ready to work. I never told myself I couldn’t feel beat down, because I knew blocking it out wouldn’t move me forward. Putting my energy into improving myself would help me progress, so I didn’t let the hard times take away from the gains. Each day was a new opportunity to improve and put myself in a better place.
Training in front of people and being in the exercise atmosphere since starting the recovery process has been much different. I had to start seeing things in a new light. Nobody would judge me for being skinny and weak knowing what happened to me, and if they did, who cares. Avoiding judgment isn’t going to help my cardio. Also, it doesn’t mean anything at all if someone judges, because you’re not working hard for their sake.
Sometimes the things you don’t want to do are the best for you. Embrace the struggle, don’t be embarrassed, everyone starts somewhere. Light weights and slow times are the first steps to where you want to be, and you’ll be a better person as a result. I had an excuse, but you don’t need one.
Ian McCormick, Canadian Canoer.
Any individuals in sports and fitness who would like to share their voice, please submit to hank@hankfittraining.com