When I was in 8th grade I attended a soccer camp with the varsity team at my high school…
Being the youngest there, I naturally felt the need to show them everything I had, and literally put my body on the line. That being said, one hour into the first training session, I truly went all out and wound up in the training room with a broken wrist. As I waited to be taken to the hospital, I sat on a stool with my arm propped up covered in ice bags. With my head on a swivel, I admired the individuals with their polos tucked in running around the room, tending to the massive line of athletes waiting at the door. At each table there were athletes getting their ankles taped, turf burns covered, and calves rolled out. There was never a dull moment for these professionals who saw one case after the next, each varying from individual to individual. As I observed how each Athletic Trainer provided the utmost care for every athlete in that room, it made me want to reciprocate those actions for athletes in the future. In that moment, 13 year old me knew instantly I wanted to be an Athletic Trainer.
Little did I know that after completing the degree, it would hurt so bad to do the very thing I had my heart set on for years. Initially, my thought was when I was done playing sports, Athletic Training would be a means for me to remain connected to athletics and the culture that with it. Having invested 20 years of my life participating in sports, it has been a tough pill to swallow to consider there ever being an end.
My first job out of college was working as an Athletic Trainer for a high school. While I spent hundreds of hours shadowing in that setting during my undergrad years, I was actively participating in sports at the same time. It wasn’t until after I ended my rugby career that this rude awakening occurred.
It had never crossed my mind that it would be so painful to be immersed in the environment that used to be my own existence and experience.
That exposure made me realize being around athletes would be a constant reminder of the glory days, the great wins and tough losses, the pregame rituals I had with my teammates, and the want to be the best that I could be at my sport. Seeing those athletes at various ages brought me back to those times, causing triggering regrets and what if’s to fill my head constantly – spinning in endless circles.
For this very reason, I find myself today working in a clinical setting. I can go to work and use my skill set to treat patients, not athletes. The majority of the population I am working with are well beyond their athletic days. All walking in on feet that have once been on a field, kicked a ball, and cheered on their teammates. In some ways we are in similar positions, reminiscing about the times when we were: before the end of career or injury, before our ailments hindered us from continuing what we love, and so much more.
For me, this disconnection from sport, to some extent, has aided my own recovery from ending my rugby career. While some people have the ability to stay involved, I found it was best to distance myself as much as I could. Maybe one day I will return to working with athletes, but right now the wound is still very much open. And who knows, maybe it will stay open as a way to remind me of all the moments in life that have directed me to where I am today.
Over the last year and a half, I earned my Master’s degree in Exercise and Health Sciences. The irony here is that my degree allows me to work with a wide variety of athletes to aid in their athletic development on and off the field. Just as both of my degrees are targeted to play an active role within that population, I find I am pushing myself farther away – working under a surgeon whose patients average 50 years of age. It seems that the more qualified I am to work with active athletes specifically; the less eager I am to continue on this career path. Am I doing this to mess with myself? Am I learning about things that I wish I had known as an athlete? Would this knowledge have changed the trajectory of my athletic or professional career? These are thoughts constantly occupying the back of my mind. I know deep down that my intent in chasing this degree was to offer athletes the best guidance so they don’t have to ask the questions I asked myself.
Is this the best I could have done?
Is there more that I could have known?
Would that have made a difference in where I am today?
And then I remember those unforgettable moments that I shared with my Athletic Trainers over the years. From the ruptured extensor tendon in my finger, to my chronic patellar bursitis, to my separated shoulder, to the time I broke my wrist at summer camp, they were always by my side, supporting me when I was first sidelined. They kept me strong both physically and mentally, while I experienced a pause in my sports career. They gave me the tools to grow and move forward despite my setbacks. They provided me with the knowledge of how to get better and be better.
Because of their influence, while it is really challenging for me to be active in athletics currently, I know in my gut that is where I am meant to be and will end up. I want to be as impactful, if not more, on my future athletes as my Athletic Trainers were for me. Although I am currently taking a step back from direct interaction with the sport community, I know 13-year-old Alanna made the right decision in pursuing Athletic Training.
