How Writing Saved My Athletic Career
How a mysterious injury led to a career and a new passion.
I’ve always liked fighting.
Even as a toddler, I used to run around my parent’s living room reenacting scenes from Dragon Ball Z with my dad and sister. It wasn’t far-fetched that eventually, I became obsessed with wrestling and Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu as a young adult.
Wrestling and Jiu-Jitsu taught me how to be strong, confident, and relentless. They taught me grit.
When I started competing, the main attributes that I had going for me were the fact that I was 18 (a sponge for technical knowledge) and that I had a little bit of a chip on my shoulder. I felt like I had something to prove and I was willing to let my body break to prove it.
In the beginning, toughness, and toughness alone took me further than many of my adversaries with few consequences. Over time, however, I’ve become riddled with physical and mental injuries from my sport. I have herniated discs up and down my spine, torn shoulders, torn knees, and I’ve battled severe anxiety and depression as a result of this lifestyle.
I’ve had countless visits to the doctor’s office that have ended in me being told to “take a break”.
But before, I physically couldn’t just “take a break”. In the past, getting hurt felt like a soft version of dying to me.
This is how writing changed everything.
The first time my body broke, I had no idea what to do.
The first severe athletic injury that I had was when I was a 19-year-old Jiu-Jitsu blue belt. It was 4 weeks before the IBJJF Pan Ams, and one day during training, my knee just popped — loudly.
For a few moments, my knee was “stuck” in place. I popped it back. It hurt, but it wasn’t excruciating.
What was excruciating was the ensuing 7 months of my knee popping in and out of place in training, at school, and even once in my sleep. I had 3 inconclusive MRIs. The doctors had no idea what was wrong with me, but we all knew something was fucked up in my leg.
This injury just about broke me because, at the time, I had literally nothing else in my life that I looked forward to.
I had no real close friendships, no real career prospects besides one that involved competitive Jiu-Jitsu, and I didn’t really know anything about myself besides that I was a “tough guy” who wanted to show the world how tough he was.
Randomly, I started writing.
My interest in writing started when I was a kid, but writing really piqued my interest when I was in my mom’s basement having a panic attack at 3 in the morning that began because I was ruminating about what I was “doing with my life”.
The truth is that for me, I started writing out of desperation.
I had no purpose, no responsibility and I felt unlovable and expendable. I hated myself and I wanted to die.
The reality that I was 19 and still figuring things out didn’t matter. In my head, I was a manchild who offered no value to the world around him.
In a nervous fit, I started writing a diary entry in the notes section on my phone while listening to “The Prayer” by Kid Cudi. That’s kind of how this whole thing started.
Poetic, I know.
After I recovered from the injury (I had surgery to remove a torn meniscus in the end), I was still severely depressed and in a constant state of derealization, but I was definitely trending upward. I went and saw a therapist. I started a daily journal of 10 “morning thoughts” in a Google Doc, and I still write in it almost every day, to this day.
This was years before I even thought about collecting a cent for writing, but writing gave my brain the structure it needed.
Injuries are not going anywhere.
For me, injuries are life’s way of fucking up my plans.
If I had it my way, I’d never miss a day of training, never miss a competition, and I’d always be trending upward toward my goals. Unfortunately, those are not the cards I’ve been dealt. I’ve battled numerous injuries throughout my career, ranging from severe to mild to mental.
Last week alone, I jammed a finger, pulled a hamstring, and tweaked my back.
These injuries might sound pretty uncomfortable to the average person (or at the very least, a sign that they need to take a break), but for people involved in competitive Jiu-Jitsu, these injuries are just part of the territory. They’re a part of the game that you have to learn to navigate.
I’ve realized (through writing) that writing is the way that I can navigate injuries and obstacles.
Writing gives me the same distraction that only training has ever been able to do. The last time I got severely injured, I managed to put together an entire ebook.
Training and intense exercise were always my outlets for my anxiety and ADHD, and until I found writing, I had no other outlet that was constructive. In the past, injury meant that I was on the path to self-destruction, but now, an injury just means I need to take some time off and write more.
It’s really not so bad.
Both my passions work together.
“Find three hobbies you love: One to make you money, one to keep you in shape, and one to be creative.” ― Anonymous
I only have 2 hobbies at the moment. Both make me money, one keeps me in shape, and the other keeps me creative.
As a result, I feel like I’m pretty happy — even when my back hurts and my writing is consistently performing not as great as I’d like.
What I’ve learned is that if I’m breaking down physically, I am probably spending too much time training and not enough time writing carefully. If my writing is suffering, I’m probably spending too much time being “married to my routine” and not enough time living.
I live, train, and then write.
This is how I produce my best work and feel my happiest.
I may never be one of those writers who sits around and hammers out 10,000 words per day (although, I can get out around 5000 or so on a good day) because when I push beyond my limits in writing, my happiness suffers.
Getting to the gym and doing Jiu-Jitsu clears my head and gives me something to write about. Writing helps me process the stuff I learn in life and at the gym. If I’m struggling with both, that means I am probably overworking.
Writing gives me the balance that my hyperactive mind has always needed. Without writing and Jiu-Jitsu together, I’d be back at square one when it comes to managing my mental health.
Closing thoughts
I’m pretty dramatic sometimes, but I am trying to be a little bit less dramatic in my writing.
I don’t know if I’d be dead if it wasn’t for writing, but without a doubt, writing has been the single biggest catalyst for many drastic changes in my life. Writing taught me how to understand my emotions. It taught me how to speak confidently to both myself and others.
Writing taught me how to teach, lead, help others, and express myself. It’s the creative outlet I’d always wanted but was too scared to pursue.
By now, it’s given me the opportunity to make a living doing what I love.
Sure, I haven’t “made it” as a writer, but it kind of feels like I have. I have my cake, and I’m eating it too. I have a purpose and a meaning to my life.
When it’s all said and done, I have a quest, and my quest is pretty freakin’ awesome. For now, that’s enough for me.
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