A little background
Now that I've jumped into the blogosphere, I figure I should take a long moment to give some background on me and my journey up to this point.
I am a 25 year old woman, and identify strongly as a former gymnast. When I was 2 years old, my pediatrician recommended I start gymnastics to strengthen my weak ankles and feet. Even as a small child, I was always tripping and falling everywhere, walking into things, and covered in bruises.
I quickly fell in love with the sport that would one day appear to break me.
I began competing in gymnastics at age 8, but by the time I was 10 years old, I needed to take time off to heal my constantly twisting and painful ankles. I was miserable without gymnastics, but I didn't think much of my pain - injuries are a way of life for a gymnast. When I was 12 years old, I finally returned to the gym, and at ages 13 and 14 I trained 12 hours a week and resumed competing. Through all those years, I had frequent injuries to the point where I began hiding the pain from my parents, as they told me that one more injury would be the last straw, and I would no longer be allowed to do gymnastics. No joint remained untouched. Gradually, I wound up with multiple stress fractures in my spine that I could no longer pretend did not hurt. After my final championships, my body retired from the sport I loved. I dabbled with gymnastics again my freshman year of college, but with constant re-injuries to my shins, knees, and back, I realized I was truly done.
From that point on, it became a true challenge to be physically active and stay in shape. As a kid, I never realized just how strong I was. But looking back, I understand that gymnastics turned my muscles into a built-in body brace, just as my pediatrician intended all those years ago. With years out of the sport that built me, I found myself weak and prone to new injuries during seemingly simple tasks. My collection of ankle, wrist, and knee braces grew while my confidence waned. After a shoulder injury from swimming, I found myself fearful of exercise. I tried to find different ways to stay in shape, but ultimately my proclivity toward injuries scared me away from exercising sufficiently to feel good about myself and my body.
During my first year of physical therapy school, I realized how outside the realm of normal my joint hypermobility (flexibility) was. After spraining my MCL (knee ligament) while simply standing, discovering my back pain was closely connected with my sacroiliac joint (junction between spine and pelvis) wiggling in and out of place, and my shoulder subluxing (slipping out of place and immediately slipping back in), I recognized I was dealing with a more complex problem. Combined with my soft skin, abnormally wide arm span, history of a double hernia at age 4, and my repetition of many physical problems that my mom had (aka a genetic link), I recognized that I likely had a connective tissue disorder.
Still, my fight to stay in shape continued. I learned to listen to my body and not push through pain - a habit that I truly had to unlearn after years as a gymnast. I found that I could not go to the gym as often as my PT classmates who, like me, know that fitness is an important component of happiness and health.
A couple months ago, while missing gymnastics but realizing my shoulders and wrists could not even handle a simple handstand, I decided to try aerial silks as a low-impact alternative to give me the same adrenaline rush and an unbeatable core workout. After one class, I was hooked. However, I found that my resultant hand pain (aerial requires a strong grip, and my fingers sublux, making it painful to grip powerfully) impacted my daily activities at home, work, and even basic tasks like getting dressed. I decided it was time to finally begin to manage my care, so I made an appointment with a rheumatologist and received my official diagnosis of Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome.
So here I am. Finally diagnosed with EDS, and ready to tackle my fitness and bring back my strength, to decrease my frequency of injuries and feel good about my body. Because ultimately, this is the body I was born with, and I want this body to last me through a long, happy, active life.
I am a 25 year old woman, and identify strongly as a former gymnast. When I was 2 years old, my pediatrician recommended I start gymnastics to strengthen my weak ankles and feet. Even as a small child, I was always tripping and falling everywhere, walking into things, and covered in bruises.
I quickly fell in love with the sport that would one day appear to break me.
I began competing in gymnastics at age 8, but by the time I was 10 years old, I needed to take time off to heal my constantly twisting and painful ankles. I was miserable without gymnastics, but I didn't think much of my pain - injuries are a way of life for a gymnast. When I was 12 years old, I finally returned to the gym, and at ages 13 and 14 I trained 12 hours a week and resumed competing. Through all those years, I had frequent injuries to the point where I began hiding the pain from my parents, as they told me that one more injury would be the last straw, and I would no longer be allowed to do gymnastics. No joint remained untouched. Gradually, I wound up with multiple stress fractures in my spine that I could no longer pretend did not hurt. After my final championships, my body retired from the sport I loved. I dabbled with gymnastics again my freshman year of college, but with constant re-injuries to my shins, knees, and back, I realized I was truly done.
From that point on, it became a true challenge to be physically active and stay in shape. As a kid, I never realized just how strong I was. But looking back, I understand that gymnastics turned my muscles into a built-in body brace, just as my pediatrician intended all those years ago. With years out of the sport that built me, I found myself weak and prone to new injuries during seemingly simple tasks. My collection of ankle, wrist, and knee braces grew while my confidence waned. After a shoulder injury from swimming, I found myself fearful of exercise. I tried to find different ways to stay in shape, but ultimately my proclivity toward injuries scared me away from exercising sufficiently to feel good about myself and my body.
During my first year of physical therapy school, I realized how outside the realm of normal my joint hypermobility (flexibility) was. After spraining my MCL (knee ligament) while simply standing, discovering my back pain was closely connected with my sacroiliac joint (junction between spine and pelvis) wiggling in and out of place, and my shoulder subluxing (slipping out of place and immediately slipping back in), I recognized I was dealing with a more complex problem. Combined with my soft skin, abnormally wide arm span, history of a double hernia at age 4, and my repetition of many physical problems that my mom had (aka a genetic link), I recognized that I likely had a connective tissue disorder.
Still, my fight to stay in shape continued. I learned to listen to my body and not push through pain - a habit that I truly had to unlearn after years as a gymnast. I found that I could not go to the gym as often as my PT classmates who, like me, know that fitness is an important component of happiness and health.
A couple months ago, while missing gymnastics but realizing my shoulders and wrists could not even handle a simple handstand, I decided to try aerial silks as a low-impact alternative to give me the same adrenaline rush and an unbeatable core workout. After one class, I was hooked. However, I found that my resultant hand pain (aerial requires a strong grip, and my fingers sublux, making it painful to grip powerfully) impacted my daily activities at home, work, and even basic tasks like getting dressed. I decided it was time to finally begin to manage my care, so I made an appointment with a rheumatologist and received my official diagnosis of Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome.
So here I am. Finally diagnosed with EDS, and ready to tackle my fitness and bring back my strength, to decrease my frequency of injuries and feel good about my body. Because ultimately, this is the body I was born with, and I want this body to last me through a long, happy, active life.
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