I was always proud of my high pain tolerance, the way I could get a shot without flinching, or the time I finished a gymnastics competition with two hyperextended knees. I would wear my bruises like medals and be so proud when I told people I wasn’t even sure how I got them. I have learned to ignore pain, to push through no matter the results.
It’s not that anyone has told me to ignore my pain, it's just that when I was younger, I associated pain with weakness, which isn’t the case. I was a competitive gymnast when I was younger, so getting hurt came with the sport, but I never really took care of my body the way I should’ve. I would pop ibuprofen as if it were candy. At one point, my teachers would regulate how much we would take in a day while we were on school trips. Of course, we would just sneak it and take it when they weren’t looking. I had the routine of taking two in the morning to prepare myself for the day and three before I left for gymnastics. I learned to ignore my pain instead of listening to it.
One year on a backpacking trip, I was so focused on ignoring the pain and pushing through that I didn’t realize I had two quarter sized blisters on the backs of my ankles. Luckily the trip had been cut short due to the weather. When I got home, I could barley walk, and I have no clue what I would have done if we had to keep going for three more days.
The thing about pain is it’s the way your body tells your brain that something is wrong. We listen to autocorrect when it underlines a word for us, so why don’t we listen to one of the most basic human features? As I have grown older, I've learned to listen to my body carefully, because it will let you know if something is wrong. I wish I had done this when I was younger because I probably could’ve avoided a knee surgery and a couple of months in a walking boot.
Pushing yourself is fine, but you need to learn when to stop, when enough is enough. I have learned to listen to my body when I am in pain instead of muting it with drugs. When something doesn’t feel right, I wait and listen, and if it get worse or doesn’t get better after a few days, I try to find out what's wrong.
Think of pain as a fire alarm for your body; it might be a false alarm, but it doesn’t hurt to make sure everything is OK. And don’t get me wrong: I am not saying to run the doctor when you feel a hint of pain. We just need to learn how to listen to it instead of ignoring it.
