First training back since it all went haywire

So after my conversation with John Mc Grath ( see convo here). I finally decided to put on and pull up my socks and finally get back out there. I wanted to get back to normalcy, or at least take the first steps to getting back there. Three months previous I hadn’t even been hooked up to my last chemo round, so I knew I was in for a tough time but I was willing to take this challenge.

I won’t lie, it was hard. My body literally didn’t really know what was happening during my first warm up and the 1,2,3 and jump high 4 drills. I felt breathless just pucking the ball from one end of the courtyard to the next. What kept me going were the words of encouragement and enthusiasm from my team mates, all giving me hugs before training. Nonetheless I was nervous, as I wasn’t sure what I could handle. I took my time, didn’t push myself and most importantly went at my own pace. I knew my own strengths and weaknesses and just tested the water. Getting used to holding the hurl again and remembering the right technique with hitting the ball was all I focused on. It was crazy, I had even lost the strength in my arm to hold the hurl properly. The fitness will come soon, starting from walking to gradual jog to road runner.

Despite all these challenges I felt so content, as if this is where I was supposed to be. All my bad days during the chemo, the times I wondered if I could go on, back playing with a hurl in my hand was all I daydreamed about. Fast forward one week and I attempted my second training. We were back out on the pitch and the feeling of the grass under my feet and the swift cutting breeze was an amazing feeling. Before the practice match we puked the ball around, a trivial task I am sure to all the others. For myself however, it was such a surreal moment. Three months ago I was so unsure of everything and now look, I was back on the pitch ready to leave it all behind me. I really enjoyed that training. I played as a float as I was sure I wouldn’t able to contribute to my side fully. Regardless I tried my best and got a few good scores, even though I had the advantage of having no marker. I expected to collapse on the side-line after five minutes but I kept going until my body physically allowed me.

I probably slept for two days straight after each training, the effects only taking place afterwards. I was absolutely shattered. That feeling though is irreplaceable, of finally feeling that you are putting the mess behind you. I remember the ball was puked out directly to me. It was a high ball. I chickened out last minute to catch it but I blocked it in a way that it fell just in front of me. I shot towards the sliotar, with one of the girls close on my tail. Just as I was scooping the ball into my hands, gravity failed me. I had forgotten the concept of force and nearly done a head over heels, but I loved it. As I was laughing to myself everyone else was concerned. I brushed it off and simply said “I have beaten cancer. There is literally nothing that can scare me now”.

I was happy I took that first step. Apart from training once a week, I try walk every day with twenty minutes ball skills against the wall and  Pilates on a Friday evening. Week by week I will build it up. Fatigue is still a b***h but hopefully it will start to wear off soon.

 

hurl

Back to basics. Hitting the ball against the wall trying not to break any windows.

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