Overcoming injury is something no athlete wants to have to do, but many have no alternative – and the journey back to fitness can be long, tough, and yet oddly rewarding. Maria Kalashnikoff, of Probici Lanzarote, writes about two massive blows to her health, and how she picked herself back up again.
I completed Ironman Lanzarote in 2011 – a day which is tattooed on my memory for eternity.
After I had my son in 2012 my priorities changed. Sport was still part of my life, but it had to take a back seat. I was trying to juggle parenthood and running a full-time business, and something had to give.
In 2021, at the age of 54, I was told I needed a complete hip replacement. Shock and denial are two words that spring to mind. Thankfully, having a supportive and understanding partner, I went ahead with the surgery.
Prior to the operation I was in excruciating pain. I had no cartilage in my hip joint and could barely walk without taking painkillers. The pain was constant. After a while you almost adjust to living with it because that is all you can do.
After the operation the pain disappeared, and I was up and walking with a “Ferrari” Zimmer frame (as the physiotherapist called it) within three hours of surgery. The next six months involved physio sessions twice a week and, as I could not drive, a mini-fleet of friends kindly offered their services.
It was a much slower recovery process than I’d hoped for, but I’d researched the best course of progress to make a full and complete recovery. All the arrows pointed to buckets of patience, plenty of physio and a positive, healthy mental attitude. Obviously, the surgeon did his bit, too, and I cannot fault the care I received from the health service and physios on Lanzarote.
Fast forward to 2022 and I was in a pretty good place. I planned to race again, but then in January 2023 I literally went down with a bang to below Ground Zero. I suffered a terrible accident that resulted in multiple fractures to my pelvis and six ribs, a punctured lung, two broken fingers, various cuts requiring stitches and bruising.
I spent three weeks lying on my back on a morphine drip. When you spend three weeks flat on your back, it brings your understanding of the meaning of the word “patience” to a new level. What kept me sane was knowing and believing I would make a full and complete recovery, but only if I did it step-by-step, following the rules strictly. A good sense of humour helps a lot, too.
A poignant moment for me was an X-ray that showed that one of my lungs was completely deflated. Doctors were astounded I wasn’t gasping for breath – I guess that’s one of the advantages of being a sporty person.
In hospital, the highlight of my day was my partner’s daily visits. My roomy in the hospital was also a godsend -we were both in such a bad place, but it made the suffering easier as we were doing it together. Once out of hospital, it was like déjà vu – this time I had physio three times a week and, once again, the physios were like angels. I was dreading my first session, but I hobbled out on my crutches feeling like a million dollars. I learned so much and continued to do so at every session. The first time I walked without crutches, the feeling was electric.
Like a child taking their first steps, I started swimming two months after surgery. It was a major milestone for me – I felt like a bag of bones, as if all my fitness had flown away. But it hadn’t, and I started walking more and cycling. The good thing about being fit before injury is that fitness returns so much more quickly.
Nutrition, hydration, supplements and plenty of sleep were hugely important early on. I felt like I’d been run over by a steam train, I was battered and bruised, and my confidence had taken a big knock.
Everything took so long. It’s almost impossible to cook while on crutches, so I learned to cook sitting down. I laugh about it now, but it’s so hard when you can’t even make a cup of tea and take it to the sofa or have a stand-up shower. It’s always the little things.
It’s now been over a year since my accident and I’m back to doing all the things I love – I even took part in an Olympic-distance triathlon and wasn’t last!
I cannot give enough thanks to my mini-army of family and friends who have helped my recovery, and my four-legged furry creature has also been a huge therapy. I wasn’t able to look after a pet in the first days of my recovery, and I’m lucky I got him back from my wonderful dog-sitters, as they almost dog-napped him!
I feel very blessed to be standing where I am today. It has definitely brought out the best version of me. Many rivers have been cried along the way, and so many more difficult and confusing moments have happened, but that is all part of life.
I love my life. Don’t ever be afraid to ask for help and believe in yourself.
