It’s been six months my achilles repair surgery of a complete rupture.
I’m exceptionally grateful to my surgeon Dr. Andreo and my incredible PT team at Mondo Sports Therapy, Katie and Justin are the absolute best.
I’m running sprints at 90% bodyweight (on an alter-g treadmill), jumping laterally onto and off of a 20″ box, walking and biking without restriction, doing full yoga classes, and taking on that 10K kb swing challenge. I’m exploring how best to get back into sport—4s league, anyone?—and still get stiff after activity, but am happy overall with where I am now.
Fitting that today marks the 50-year anniversary of Title IX, the law that ensures women’s sports have a place in high school and college, which would fundamentally shape my life.
5 things I learned about achilles tears:
- you can actually avoid them by going to PT when they hurt, before they tear :::eye roll:::
- surgery was the right option for me, but they can heal on their own—even complete tears
- there is a very fancy type of surgery where they do not butcher your leg (like my 3-inch long scar) but use two small incisions to braid the thing back together. It is called percutaneous achilles repair and is very specialized and expensive, but if you have access to it, I with my non-medical but very-practical opinion think it would be worth doing. I could not find a surgeon in Austin who did it.
- how did cam akers come back so much faster than me? ^that surgery (in LA, where he lives) + all the rehabby things in the world
- push your PT. They aren’t kidding when they say it’s the most boring rehab in the world: pulling a towel toward you with your toes. Calf raises on calf raises on calf raises. But I was so happy to be moving that I didn’t care, and made that very clear to my PT. I was constantly asking to do more, and as a result am safely consistently a few weeks ahead of the traditional protocol.
5 things I really learned:
- all your friends love the shit out of you and will do anything for you, including just hang out in your house which is not at all an imposition
- your family will do anything for you, as you would for them
- sports don’t define me (despite what I think)
- vulnerability, softness, and being taken care of is a gift. not a burden.
- you should continue to remember this as you get better.