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In 2024, I saved a goal playing soccer by taking a big leaping step across the goal line. Unfortunately, the impact crumbled my tibial plateau—so instead of playing twice-weekly soccer, I traded in my cleats and welcomed new hardware, a bone graft, and PT exercise bands into my life. I went into surgery 1.5 weeks after my injury, blind to exactly what would happen and completely underestimating the repair, recovery, and all that makes a TPF injury. I was expecting an “ace bandage” based on the surgeon’s description and woke up with a full-leg wrap and a 7-inch scar. If I were talking to myself at the start of the journey, I’d tell myself that each week and month would get easier—that surgery can mess you up, and it takes a while to recalibrate both physically and mentally. I’d remind myself that the next year would bring challenges, but also joy, as I learned I’m more resilient than I ever thought (shoutout to the book Rebound by Carrie C. for enhancing that resiliency). I’d tell myself that every day builds on the last. I’d ease my fears and remind myself that I would walk my dog again, travel, run, jump, and even take on new sports to help with recovery. I’d tell myself I’d even play pickup beach soccer within the year. In a split second movement I joined a club that I wish no one had to be part of—but not I feel blessed to gain resiliency and grit throughout my recovery journey.
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