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  • Writer's pictureAnnie Bothma

On Thursday, the 6th of June 2024, after more than 10-months of struggling with debilitating nerve symptoms down my left side running into my leg and foot, and living with chronic lower-back pain, I was finally able to get help and undergo a back operation.


In this post, I explain in detail how I got to this point, explain the details of the procedure that was done, as well as why getting surgery was the only option left for me…



YOU NEVER KNOW WHO YOU ARE GOING TO IMPACT 


Shortly after publishing my previous two blog posts in March, I went to visit my best friend in Cape Town. We took a walk on the Sea Point promenade before going for breakfast.


It was hard to enjoy the view with all the runners passing me. I felt broken, both physically and mentally.


‘What is wrong with me?!’, I thought.


‘Why can’t I run like all these people? How did I go from winning the national marathon title at the Durban International Marathon only a year ago to this… being so weak that I can’t even walk without being overwhelmed by the pins and needles running down my leg into my left foot?’


Suddenly, a stranger touched my shoulder. 


“You don’t know me, but I just wanted to say thank you. Thank you for the blogs you just posted and sharing your journey with the world. It meant so much to me.” 


This blew my mind. In that moment, her words meant the world to me, because, at that point, I no longer felt worthy of sharing my journey. Who cares anyway? Who would want to read my story? That small gesture changed my perspective.

 

I am not the only one suffering. Every time I share my journey, I receive feedback from people resonating with certain parts, sharing their own injury or chronic health struggles with me. 


I think that is powerful! 


Currently, it is not a very happy story, but maybe, if I choose to keep fighting despite obstacles thrown my way, someone else out there will choose to do the same! 



RUNNING THE ULTRA-MARATHON OF LIFE


For as long as I can remember, life has never been easy, and that is okay. An easy life is not necessarily a meaningful life, and in many ways my story has shaped me into the person I am today.


I am also not here to complain – I know there are others who have it far worse than me. 


However, it has been a rocky road ever since I turned 11, with steep climbs and plenty of detours along the way. They say, the struggle makes you stronger, but sometimes I ask myself, ‘How much stronger do I need to be?’.


I have not run an ultramarathon yet, but, when I make my debut, I will be prepared, because the last few years of my life have felt like an ultramarathon without a finish line. When you think the end is in sight, a few more turns climb over the horizon. It becomes hard to pace yourself if you don’t know how far you need to go.


Since the pandemic, I have gone through several major health and injury setbacks, as well as some personal things that have truly been some of the most difficult challenges I ever had to face. 


2020 amounted to a blur of marathon race cancellations, as much of the running world can attest. My running was blooming towards the start of 2021, but I got no chance to put a time on the board in a real race. I broke all my personal bests, and even a couple of South African records, in training. It was all meaningless, though, since none of it was done in an official race. The disappointment peaked when I was selected for the 2021 South African Olympic Marathon Squad, but was unable to seal the deal by running the Olympic qualifying standard in an official race. 


In the middle of 2021 my health started deteriorating. I struggled to manage my symptoms in my everyday life, and even more during training. I kept passing out during my runs due to dehydration, and eventually was diagnosed with diabetes insipidus during September of that year. This is a direct result of my hypopituitarism and my body’s inability to produce adequate ADH to maintain an optimal fluid balance. Antidiuretic hormone (ADH) is a chemical produced in the brain that causes the kidneys to release less water, decreasing the amount of urine produced.


Life with celiac disease has always been challenging, but I have learned to live with it and plan ahead. I can’t help thinking, though, how much easier it would have been if I could pick anything off a menu when I go out with friends or family, not having to travel everywhere with my tupperware. I am not picky – I would have loved to eat normal bread, pasta, or pizza without having to check every label for gluten contamination. I sympathize with anyone who has food allergies, because it really sucks. 


However, learning to manage diabetes insipidus ended up being an even bigger challenge. It is embarrassing and influences nearly every aspect of my life. 


I hate having to ask where the toilet is everywhere I go; waking up multiple times a night; going for blood tests every month to ensure my electrolyte balance stays within the normal range; interrupting a meaningful conversation, because I need to find the nearest restroom; always having cold hands and feet due to the diabetes neuropathy (poor blood circulation). 


I despise everything about this illness and, in 2022, it nearly killed me. 


My medication dose was too high, which caused a severe electrolyte imbalance. Speaking plainly, my urine output was less, but more concentrated, so I was still losing all the key minerals needed to maintain and build strong bones. (Sorry for the dirty details!)


A whole year out of competition, four MRI scans, two ultrasounds, a CT scan, the first stress fracture of my career (followed by three others), and a seizure later, we finally figured it out. The doctors promptly adjusted the dose. Things quickly turned around thereafter. My blood sodium levels and electrolytes were back in balance. I was able to resume running and returned to harder training in December. 


If you want to read about this experience: THE MISSING PUZZLE PIECE


2023 started strong for me, and it felt like things were finally turning around. Alas, it ended up being one of the most challenging years of my life, both physically and mentally.



HOLDING ON TOO TIGHT


When I was a junior athlete, I had this tendency to clench my fists really tightly when I ran. At the time, my first running coach noticed this and gave me a form tip:

'Imagine you are holding a small bird in your hand. You don’t want to squeeze too tightly.'


Recently, I've thought a lot about this concept as it relates to life.


It could be...


Your biggest goals or dreams, your greatest passion, an opportunity of a lifetime, a career-defining decision, or even a person you really like...


There is such a fine line between holding on to something so tightly that you break it OR loosening your grip to the extent that it slips away.


Everything worth pursuing comes with the possibility of failure and humiliation.


However, often the greater the risk, the greater the reward as well.


It is all about finding the right balance...


Don’t squash the little bird.


But, don’t let it fly away either…


That bird was my Olympic dream.


I was so careful, but it got away all the same.


My opportunity to go to the 2024 Olympic Games in Paris had slipped away. The qualifying window closed at the end of April. At that point, I couldn’t even cross train without debilitating nerve symptoms down my left leg and foot.


There was no way I was going back to Durban to defend my title as the South African Marathon Champion.


I had to let go and, for the first time in my life, I have serious doubts about whether I am ever going to make a comeback.


I have heard ‘you will never run again’ MANY times, but doubt only becomes dangerous when you start to believe it. Up until this point, I still believed that I was good enough to become one of South Africa’s top female marathoners.


I no longer know if this goal is possible.


I thought I was doing everything I could to fix the problem. I worked with a biokineticist, thinking hard work in the gym would correct the imbalance. In fact, the strength work and plyometric training may have actually made my symptoms worse.


I have seen multiple chiros and physios, had weekly dry needling sessions, and sports massages. I have done hours upon hours of rehab and strength exercises in the gym. I seeked out the guidance of a sports doctor and exercise physiologist. I have now seen several orthopedic back surgeons. I had 3 MRI scans. I have undergone 4 epidural injections to try to calm down the inflamed nerve and ease the pain.


Nothing helped.


Read my two previous blog posts if you want more context on what went wrong in 2023 and how I got to this point where I am right now.





KEEP LOOKING


At the end of 2023, I saw the first orthopaedic spinal surgeon, Dr. Attie Botha, at Busamed Private Hospital. He looked at my MRI and said I had three options:


  1. Rest and hope it heals with time.

  2. A spinal disc fusion, where they would insert 3 screws between the L5 and S1 in my lumbar spine to repair the annular tear.

  3. An epidural injection to try calm down the inflammation and reduce the nerve irritation and pain.  


I chose the third option, since I thought it gave me the best shot of still making a comeback. I wanted to defend my national title at the Durban International Marathon in April, thereby qualifying for the Paris Games in 2024. It ended up being the wrong choice, since the epidural only bought temporary relief. A few weeks later, my symptoms were as bad as before. 


I had two more epidural injections two months apart before seeking out a second opinion. On the 10th of April, I saw a new specialist – a neurosurgeon in Stellenbosch. I felt like I had exhausted my other options. Perhaps surgery was my only path to relief.


Unfortunately, she was unwilling to operate, citing my osteoporosis and Diabetes Insipidus as too high of a risk.


I was left with no answers and a simple: “Keep looking…”


So, that is exactly what I did. 


On the 5th of May, I flew to Johannesburg to see a doctor at Spine Africa Medical Centre, who specializes in non-invasive surgical options.They wanted to see me in person before evaluating my case. They were highly recommended to me by a man who works closely alongside Bruce Fordyce. I was optimistic that these people would understand the mindset of an athlete longing to compete again. I was desperate for help.


It ended up being a horrible - and very expensive - experience! I was instructed to arrive 1 hour prior to my 1 o'clock appointment. 

At 1:30 PM, I was called to record my height and weight, and to make a payment. 

At 1:45 PM, I had to go for an X-ray.

At 2:30 PM, I saw the general physician. 

He jotted down my medical history and told me to wait for the spinal surgeon. He came in at 2:55 PM, briefly examined me and (just like the previous surgeon) made it clear that he was unwilling to operate on me after looking at my long list of medications and knowing the severity of my medical conditions. The risk was simply too big.


I was mind-blown. 


I had flown all the way, spent all that money on tickets, only to top it off with R3000 for the consultation. And for what?



ENDURE


Sometimes, when we are in the thick of things, we think they can’t get any worse, but, as crazy as it seems, I would rather be back in 2022 than deal with this injury. At least bones, with adequate rest and nutrition, typically heal within six to 12 weeks.


However, this injury has no timeline, and the future of my running career hangs in the balance.


No amount of rehab, strength training, nutritional interventions, or treatments are going to help it heal faster. I can't cross train on the ElliptiGo like I did in 2022, since it also aggravated my symptoms, even worse than running. In fact, even hiking feels too uncomfortable.


The only thing I can do without any symptoms is swimming. And I really don’t like swimming – my body hates the cold water. The doctor explained that swimming takes the pressure off the disk in my spine. A lot of people find water therapy to be beneficial for the rehabilitation of injuries. I have never swam competitively, nor have I had any swimming lessons, but doing so daily helps keep my dream alive.


At the time of writing, the nerve symptoms have progressed to a point where it impacts every aspect of my life. I feel constant pain and discomfort in my back and down my left leg.


I can't sit or stand for longer than 10-20 minutes. It wakes me up at night. I can’t walk without compensating and heavily favoring my right side. I am taking extreme (category 5) pain medication three times per day just to keep working.


I don’t know how much longer I can endure this pain. It feels like I am running a race at an unsustainable pace.


They say annular tears can take quite a long time to heal on their own – 18 months to two years. Some tears never heal. There is no guarantee that the symptoms won’t return or that there won’t develop another tear, because it will always be a weak spot.


Like I explained in my previous blog posts, this is an old injury stemming from a car accident I endured in America, in 2015. During my build-up towards the Berlin Marathon last year, I developed an annulus fibrosus tear in the disc that got hurt during that accident. The discs in the rest of my spine looks perfectly normal, but the disc between L5 and S1 is basically just deteriorating.



THE ONLY OPTION LEFT


I requested a DEXA scan from my doctor to show that my bone density has increased over the past few years. I knew the medication and near-religious daily resistance training must have made a difference. I also applied my sport nutrition knowledge and used supplements that have been proven to help improve bone density, like vitamin D, calcium, whey protein, creatine, and collagen.


I went back to Dr. Attie Botha, and asked if he would be willing to perform the operation. Once he saw my bone density had increased by over 20% in only one and a half years since my last scan, he agreed to help me. In fact, my bone density has increased so much that I no longer have osteoporosis in my hips or spine! 


I also booked an appointment with my endocrinologist to ask him if he would guide the surgeon through the correct protocols. An electrolyte or fluid imbalance occuring during the operation could be life threatening for someone with diabetes insipidus. 


Then, on the 6th of June, I received a spinal fusion between the lumbar discs L5 and S1, which basically involves putting in three screws in my back.


I have become dependent upon those around me for basic things. I can’t drive, and doing simple house chores is hard. 


At this stage, I just want quality of life back. 



THE RECOVERY ROAD AHEAD


Dr. Attie  emphasized that I need to manage my expectations and that I should not go into this operation with the hope of running professionally again. If I do, that is a bonus. Right now, the main priority should be to get relief from my symptoms and be able to live again.


However, I have, AND WILL NOT, give up yet. I know it will require a lot of patience – I need to wait six months before attempting to run again – but I will make a comeback.


Even if it takes me a lot longer to eventually achieve my goals and dreams, I know when I do they will be so much more meaningful because of what I overcame to get there. 


Recently, I have also seen one of my best friends go through back-to-back labrum surgeries in less than one year. Seeing how he navigated this challenging journey with so much persistence, patience, and determination to return to what he loves was very inspiring to me. Observing the disciplined and dedicated approach he took to his recovery timeline and rehab gives me the courage to do the same. 


I also love running too much to just let it go. I am so passionate about the sport, I can’t simply step away and move on with my life. 


Plus, I have come too far and endured too much to give up now. 


So, I am going to keep going…


I hope this post inspires you to do the same! 



Thank you for taking the time to read this blog and supporting me along my journey.

I would also like to give a shoutout to all my amazing athletes who are part of Annie’s Athletes. They have all been so supportive and caring throughout this whole journey.


A special thank you to those closest to me who stood by me through this very challenging year and were there to pick me up when I was at my lowest. (There is no need to name them all here, because they know exactly who they are!!) 🤍


It is so powerful to have people in your life who have the ability to make you laugh and smile in the midst of your pain.


Subscribe to the blog to follow along with my recovery and comeback back to the road.



~ Written by Annie Bothma, edited by Francois Bothma

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  • Writer's pictureAnnie Bothma

Updated: Mar 11

In this second post, I dive deep into what really happened towards the end of 2023, why I didn't race Berlin Marathon and why I have been absent from the racing scene since then. I also share where I am now in my journey and the perspective I have gained from going through these major health and injury setbacks over this past year.


Disclaimer: I will be going into detail about my chronic health struggles and injuries, but I also speak openly about my mental health. I am not giving advice or guidance in this post with the hopes it will make someone else feel less alone in their own struggles with mental health. This is my personal experience; it is best to seek professional help/support.



THE BEGINNING OF THE END

I started August on a strong note with one of my fastest 40 km long runs yet. It was a regular Tuesday morning, but I was fueled by my goals and had work to do! With sights on the Berlin marathon, I was fired up and motivated. On a solo mission in my neighbourhood, I clocked a 2:27 for the 40 km.



Four days after that long run, I planned to squeeze in a short workout before racing the Totalsports Ladies Race the next week. But, during the first rep of this straightforward 8 x 1 km session, I felt one of the weirdest sensations ever. My whole body went numb. It felt like my heart was beating out of my chest, and my head was going to explode. I collapsed on the sidewalk shortly after hitting the 1 km mark. I was completely out of it. What happened?!


I could hardly jog during the following few days, but I still boarded the plane in hope of racing in Durban on the 9th of August.


Needless to say, I endured the race and clocked my slowest 10 km time since my junior years. It was even slower than the 10 km splits of my most recent marathon, and most of my long runs. Throughout the race, I grappled with symptoms like dizziness, fatigue, fogginess, headaches, and skyrocketing heart rates.


After returning home, I did some testing to find out what was going on. An ECG revealed abnormal spikes in my heart rhythm, potentially signalling an electrolyte imbalance. The next day, it was confirmed by blood tests: I was severely dehydrated and had clinically low sodium levels, indicating Hyponatremia*. The results were severe enough to put me at risk of a seizure, like I experienced in 2022.


I try my best to manage my Diabetes Insipidus**, but when you lose litres of fluid every day it is hard to keep up. I take salt pills daily to offset the sodium losses from my prescribed medication. Instead of plain water, I opt for electrolytes. I am constantly trying to learn more about this condition and how to manage it. However, chronic illness can be relentless: it doesn't care about your goals. There's no easy fix or cure. It's something I'll have to manage for the rest of my life.



*Hyponatremia is a medical condition characterised by a low concentration of sodium in the blood. Sodium is an essential electrolyte that helps regulate water balance in and around cells. Hyponatremia occurs when the sodium level in the blood falls below 135 millimoles per litre (mmol/L). This imbalance can be due to various factors, such as excessive water intake, certain medical conditions, or medications. Symptoms of hyponatremia can range from mild to severe and may include nausea, headache, confusion, fatigue, and, in severe cases, seizures or a coma. It's a condition that requires careful medical management to correct the sodium imbalance safely.


**Diabetes insipidus is a rare condition characterised by intense thirst and the excretion of large amounts of urine. It occurs when the body cannot properly balance fluids. This imbalance is typically due to a malfunction in the production, storage, or release of antidiuretic hormone (ADH), also known as vasopressin, which is produced in the hypothalamus and stored in the pituitary gland. ADH regulates water balance in the body. There are two main types of diabetes insipidus: Central Diabetes Insipidus: Caused by damage to the hypothalamus or pituitary gland, affecting ADH production, storage, or release. Nephrogenic Diabetes Insipidus: Occurs when the kidneys don't respond properly to ADH.


Symptoms include excessive thirst and urination, which can disrupt sleep and daily activities. Treatment depends on the type and involves either replacing ADH (for central diabetes insipidus) or taking medications that reduce urine output (for nephrogenic diabetes insipidus).



POWERLESS

I think the reason this part took me so long to write was due to the fact that I didn’t understand what was happening in my body. Pain is a clear indicator that something is wrong, but I didn’t have pain. My symptoms were unlike anything I have experienced before.


The first signs of weakness came shortly after I ran the Total Sports Ladies Race. I started experiencing weird sensations. I was losing power and feeling in my left leg. At first, it was subtle. It only happened on certain days, but it gradually became a daily struggle.


I intitially thought it was something I needed to fix. In my stubborn endurance mindset, I told myself to just work harder. I went to see a biokineticist, who gave me a couple of plyometrics and strength exercises to correct the supposed power imbalance. I worked hard in the gym, but that only made it worse.


My symptoms progressed to a point where I could no longer execute speed workouts or finish long runs. I felt like my left leg would collapse underneath me – my whole foot would go numb and would tingle with pins and needles.


Ultimately, that was the primary factor in my decision to pull out of the Berlin Marathon. You can't show up on race day if you didn't do the work. Confidence comes from knowing you've prepared well for the task ahead.


I was not prepared.


I couldn't run my race pace without feeling like I was hobbling on one leg. I didn’t know if I would be able to finish the race anymore. It was one of the hardest decisions I've ever made, but I knew it was the right one.


Pulling out of the Berlin Marathon was so painful. It was my first opportunity to run in a major overseas marathon amongst the best athletes, like world record holder Elliud Kipchoge. It is one of the biggest, most prestigious races in the world – and flat as a pancake. Most of the South African races are too hilly to run times comparable to fast marathons like Berlin and Valencia.


I had this big opportunity standing in front of me, and I couldn't seize it.



THE STORM

On the weekend of the Berlin Marathon, a storm woke us during the night. Gusts rattled the windows and doors. On the morning of the race, I went for an easy run in one of the craziest wind storms I have ever experienced.

There was damage everywhere: scattered leaves, trees blown over, and even garbage bins lying around. It was one of the worst runs of my life. I felt like I had no power in my left leg.


My diabetes insipidus was rearing its head, leading to an onset of neuropathy: the cold caused constant swelling in my hands and feet. It was torture. I was chronically dehydrated, which led to relentless fatigue and headaches.


My hands and feet were constantly swollen and very painful as a result of my diabetic neuropathy

Running no longer felt natural and effortless like before; it felt forced and uncomfortable – the fun was gone.


Conditions worsened the next day, and we had some of the heaviest rain of that winter. The river overflowed, which added to the already severe flooding and damage to the town.

Between my symptoms, this injury, and just trying to survive, the storm felt eerily symbolic of my life.



ROCK-BOTTOM

The reason why sharing this whole experience took so long was that I found myself in one of the darkest places I have ever been… and I have been to some pretty dark places. This time I was in so deep, I didn’t really have the energy or courage to share it with anyone.


Who would want to hear something this depressing? I didn’t want people to feel sorry for me. I wanted people to just forget about me.


I wished I could just disappear.


In fact, for a couple of months not a day went by without overwhelming thoughts of self harm. The burden became too heavy. Not only was I suffering through severe daily symptoms, my largest source of joy and meaning suddenly made me feel weak!


I was also under immense financial pressure. I lost my major sponsorship at the end of 2021, during the pandemic. I really hoped that claiming the national title by winning the Durban International Marathon would lead to another sponsorship. The feedback I received after the race was that it was not good enough for sponsors or elite clubs. My 2:30:00 effort was too slow. It fell short of both the Olympic qualifying mark of 2:26:50 and the World Standard of 2:28:00.


‘Simply work harder,’ I told myself, setting my sights on the Berlin Marathon. But, when that too slipped away, I became desperate. And being desperate often leads to poor decisions.

After withdrawing from Berlin, we tried to find a new marathon that would have given me more time, which led to acceptance into the elite field of the Abu Dhabi marathon in December.


I should have just taken a step back, allowing my body to reset. Yet, I pressed on, striving to lift some of the financial pressure I was placing on my parents, due to extreme medical costs.

I didn't have pain, therefore. not running at all felt unjustifiable, but it was incredibly uncomfortable. There were pins and needles running through my left leg, which would lead to a complete loss of feeling towards the end of a run.



PICKING UP THE PIECES


Barely afloat and we're taking on water

Still chasing the high that I felt the whole summer

Being buried alive with a smile on my face

A drink in my hand and a day to erase


I'm picking up the pieces, please just look the other way

I'm picking up the pieces, please just look the other way


I go off the rails every chance that I'm given

Is it worth my life if it means I might fit in?

I look at the wounds that I choose to inflict

While I hold my tongue and I tighten my grip


I'm picking up the pieces, please just look the other way

I'm picking up the pieces, please just look the other way


I'm not falling asleep, wish my heart would beat slower

Thinking back on my year, wanna start it all over

I wake you up and I tell you I'm losing control

I'm barely surviving, but I need you to know


I'm picking up the pieces, please just look the other way

I'm picking up the pieces, please just look the other way


'Cause baby I'm afraid I'm slowly pushing you away

By showing you the deepest, darkest, weakest part of me

You said you'll always be right here to keep me company


When I don't even love myself you love me anyway

When I don't even love myself you love me anyway


~ Look The Other Way, By Baretooth



While cross-training on my ElliptiGo, I listened to this song by Baretooth. The lyrics really spoke to me at the time. I longed for a reset button for this year – something to undo the mistakes I made, to prevent this all from happening.


But, even if I could have gone back, I was still puzzled. What were those strange symptoms I felt during runs? How did I suddenly become so weak? What happened to the marathoner I used to be?


The one thing I did know was that I had reached my breaking point – both physically and mentally.


I needed to start picking up all the broken pieces… even though they seemed beyond repair.

We finally decided to get testing done. The pain wasn’t unbearable, but I knew the experience was not normal. An MRI showed an annular tear in my back, in the exact same location that got hurt during a car accident in America. My spine looked healthy when we compared the scans to the ones done in 2018, but the disc between L5 and S1 was badly compromised. This time, there was a significant tear in the disc, which explained the severe nerve irritation that was radiating down my entire left leg.


The doctor deduced the cause to have either been falling or lifting something heavy. It could have been the fall in August or a gym session, or something else entirely. I honestly don’t know, but playing the “what if” game never helps.



EMBRACING THE SUCK

Ultimately, I knew I had to let go of trying to race another marathon in 2023, and had to focus on getting my injury sorted. I underwent two medical procedures of which the first did not bring any relief in symptoms.


I was at a point where I couldn’t even drive anymore! In fact, simply sitting caused a loss of feeling in my leg and extreme pain in my left upper-hamstring glute insertion. I depended on my parents to drive me to appointments for the entirety of December, which included a physio who specialises in nerve pain and back injuries.


Embrace the Suck = The ability to gut out the tough times; to find happiness and even fulfilment during difficult times – an indispensable skill and mindset.


Once the festive season rolled around and my family went on holiday, I decided to stay home alone with my pup, Nike. The thought of sitting for long hours in a car sounded painful. It gave me the chance to reflect on the year that had passed.


I needed to bide my time, allowing the story to unfold.



I spent hours strolling in the beautiful vineyards and mountains with Nike, listening to my favourite podcasts. How I dreamt of running up those hills instead – and flying down on the other side.


I also did a lot of journaling, focusing on writing down my core values and coming back to my WHY. I had to admit, to myself, that I was no longer living as my authentic self, and not showing up in the world the way I aspire to.


I am not a victim of my illness or this injury! I have learned to embrace the suck.


While I could not run, I poured my energy into my coaching and nutrition business, Annie’s Athletes. At least I could help others achieve their goals and dreams. I could support and guide them through their training journey, as well as teach them good nutritional habits that will not only lead to their best performance, but also give them longevity in the sport that we love so much.



YOU MAKE PROGRESS IN DROPS AND YOU LOSE IT IN BUCKETS

On the first of January, I ran on the grass for 20 minutes and finally felt the ground underneath both my feet for the first time in almost 6 months! I gradually increased my distance such that I was ready to start transitioning back into marathon training by the end of January.


I started making great progress and was preparing to defend my title of South African Marathon Champion at the Durban International Marathon, but then, on the 12th of February, during my first long run in months, all my symptoms came flooding back. I was only 3 km into the run when I started losing feeling in my left leg and feeling pins and needles in my foot. By the 10 km mark I was basically running on one leg and was forced to stop and walk back home.


You make progress in drops, and you lose it in buckets.


My dream was over. It was time to let go.


In 2015, when that car hit me in America, my whole life changed.



IS THIS HOW THE STORY ENDS?

This is the most serious injury I have experienced in my running career, and what makes it so hard is that it wasn’t even caused by running. No amount of rehab or strength work can fix it.

There is nothing I can change in my diet to help me heal faster. It was an accident that injured my back, and only time will tell if I will be able to overcome it.


Right now, I can only walk and do some strength training. I don’t know how the journey back will look…


BUT, I do know that I am not ready to give up just yet!


Is this possibly a career ending injury? Have I considered retiring and stepping away from the sport?


Absolutely.


Honestly, sometimes I wish I cared less and didn’t love it so much.


It’s a part of me. I really can’t imagine my life without it. I also know I have more to give. I do not believe I have tapped into my full potential. I have not achieved the goals I set for myself. In practice sessions, I have seen glimpses of the times I think I am capable of, but it means nothing until I clock them in an official race.


I have unfinished business.


I may not have a lot to show for 2023, or 2022 for that matter. In fact, since 2020, it has been a wild ride, both personally and professionally. However, I have gained so much knowledge about my own body, my medical conditions, nutrition, and training. I believe it will set me up to make better decisions moving forward; decisions which will not only benefit my health, but also my athletic performance.

“I’ll never be as great as I WANT to be. But, I am willing to spend my entire life trying to be as great as I CAN be.” — Kenny Aaronoff


If you’ve made it this far…


THANK YOU!


Thank you for taking the time to read my story and following my journey. It really means a lot to me.


I do hope this post helps someone out there who may also be struggling with some dark demons or battling through an injury, illness, or some other setback. Know that you are not alone in your fight.



~ Written by Annie Bothma, edited by Francois Bothma


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  • Writer's pictureAnnie Bothma

Here we go…


It took me a while to gather the courage to write this. I often wanted to share, but I simply couldn’t. I didn’t know what was going on in my own body. I feel like I have lost the ability to move organically and run freely.


To me, running feels natural. It is like breathing – without it, I almost feel suffocated. A day without a run feels weird, like something is missing. It has been my biggest passion for as long as I can remember. It spread through every aspect of my life: the people I surround myself with, the content I consume (like podcasts, books, online articles, and newsletters), as well as my day job of being a running coach and sports nutritionist.


However, for the past few months, running no longer felt effortless. I had to think of every step – every run became a grind. It was mentally exhausting.


That’s when I knew I had to stop.



WHY AM I SHARING THIS NOW

Why did I disappear from the racing scene after being crowned the ASA marathon champion at the Durban International Marathon in March, 2023? Hopefully I can shed some light on what happened.


I hope sharing my journey will help others avoid similar challenges by being proactive, thus avoiding the months of struggling I had to endure. Furthermore, I hope to make others who also had a year rife with illness or injury feel less alone.


Lastly, I hope that this inspires or motivates you to keep fighting, even when it feels like the ground is shifting beneath your feet.



LETTING GO OF WORLD CHAMPS IN 2023

I wrote a detailed blog post, The Comeback Code, on how I made the transition back into racing after my pandemic-induced hiatus in 2020/2021. It also discusses a series of bone stress injuries I suffered, due to an incorrect medication dosage in 2022. I will not repeat the details here.


I concluded by saying that I stopped trying to qualify for the 2023 World Championship Marathon, deciding to rather chase the Olympic standard of sub-2:28:00 before the qualifying window closed. However, things didn’t go according to plan.


In fact, nothing went according to plan in 2023.


After the Durban Marathon, I made a meticulous race schedule, with target races and goals assigned to each month. I was ecstatic to finally compete again – it felt like a fresh start.

I was invited to compete in the elite field of the Geneva Marathon, which took place on the 7th of May, 2023. I spent two weeks training at lower intensity after winning the Durban Marathon.


Then, in April, I had some of the best training ever, once I got back into structured workouts and long runs. I broke a few personal records, both in workout times and weekly mileage. I completed a 30 km long run with an average of 3:33/km, verifying that my endurance was still there. It also felt like my speed was coming back, for the first time since 2021, when I did one of my fastest 5 km tempo runs: 15:03.



However, we soon realised that I was training for the wrong race. Looking at forecasts and historical weather patterns for Geneva, a Swiss city that lies on the southern tip of expansive Lac Léman (Lake Geneva), we saw that typical temperatures were around 4-7 ℃ around the marathon’s date. The city sounded idyllic, surrounded by the Alps, the Jura mountains, and views of dramatic Mont Blanc, but acknowledging that cold is one of my biggest weaknesses, I knew that, at best, my performance would have been subpar, but, at worst, there was the risk of serious health complications.


As temperatures dropped in the Western Cape by the end of April, we knew declining the invitation turned out to be the right decision. My training gradually became inconsistent as my health deteriorated. My body no longer responded to training like it did during the warmer months, with the pace I hit leading into the Durban Marathon being reduced to a tantalising memory. In desperation, I shifted all my training to the middle of the day, when temperatures were a bit warmer.


I decided to stop trying to qualify for the Marathon World Champs in Budapest as I realised my time was going to run out. I started focusing on shorter distance races instead. My main targets were the ASA Half Marathon Championships in June, the prestigious ABSA 10 km series, and the ASA 10 km in November. The idea was for these smaller goals to set me up nicely for my main goal, which was to race a fast marathon in the second half of the year.


As you may know by now, all those races have passed and I wasn’t on the start-line at any of them!


So, what happened?!



BAD LUCK

In May, I was preparing for the ASA Half-Marathon Championships, which took place on the first weekend of June. However, two weeks before the race, I got Bronchitis. It was the first and only time, in 2023, that I got sick outside of my chronic illness. The timing could not have been worse.

I have been lucky when it comes to colds or flus. I never caught Covid-19 throughout the pandemic. We realised that it would not be wise to race a hard 21 km. Potentially extending, or worsening, this sickness was not a risk I was willing to take, especially with the danger of creating a long-term problem.


I looked forward to competing again, and representing Western Province Athletics, so it was frustrating. That said, I also acknowledge that it’s not just about me. I would have travelled as part of a team, so I could’ve infected those around me. I would have felt terrible if I had ruined a teammate or competitor’s race, potentially also costing them a few weeks of training afterwards.



WHEN IT RAINS IT POURS

I decided to put the disappointment behind me, and work towards the next goal.

The fire lit up again when I got invited to compete in the elite field of the Berlin Marathon. I went out for a long run in Cape Town that weekend, excited and motivated to prepare for joining the best in the world on the flat and fast streets of Berlin. This would’ve been my first time competing in an international marathon overseas, not to mention one of the prestigious Abbott Marathon Majors.


The weather didn’t share my excitement, nor care about my long run plans that day. It was already a cold morning. Then, what started as a drizzle turned into a pour half way through the run. I ended up next to the road, battling with hypothermia. The one moment I still felt strong, the next my vision started blurring and my legs became heavy. I started losing motor-control and could no longer keep a straight line. I was forced to start walking, until my body came to a grinding halt. My dad had to cycle as fast as he could back to the car to come pick me up, while a stranger waited with me as I shivered uncontrollably.


We had one of the worst winters ever in the Western Cape. It may not seem significant compared to some countries, but to us South Africans, who are used to pretty mild winters, it was certainly a shock to the system. We had the most rainfall in over 40 years, accompanied by flooding, icy temperatures and insane winds. There was a lot of damage, both in my neighbourhood and in surrounding areas.



Nonetheless, I wrote in big, bold letters on my blackboard: I WANT THIS MORE THAN ANYTHING ELSE. I WILL BE AN OLYMPIAN IN 2024.


I was determined not to let the weather stop me. I convinced myself that I'm stronger than the storm and should just push through. However, sticking to a structured schedule became increasingly challenging. While I managed to clock easy miles, executing quality workouts and long runs proved difficult as my body tended to shut down in the cold and wet conditions.





THE START OF BERLIN MARATHON BUILD-UP

My marathon-specific training began 12 weeks before the race on September 24, 2023. To elevate my performance, my agent suggested collaborating with a coach, whose name I've decided to keep private.


Being self-coached is essential for managing my chronic health conditions effectively. Each morning, I check my vitals, follow my activation and warm-up routine, and make decisions based on my body's feedback: a few key markers indicate extreme dehydration or low blood pressure. I've learned not to push myself too hard in challenging conditions, like icy temperatures or heavy rain, to avoid setting myself up for failure.



With the desire to elevate my performance to the next level, I gave being coached a shot. Sometimes, advancing requires a different approach than what you've done before. It's great to have someone who genuinely cares about your progress provide feedback on training.

I quickly realised that his coaching approach didn’t support my progress. He proposed changes to elements that had previously proven effective for me, such as my weekly mileage, workout types, warm-up/cool-down routines, and strength training schedule. Staple components like hill repeats, fartleks, tempo runs, and post-easy run strides were entirely removed. His plan focused on just two key sessions weekly: a long interval track session, alongside a long run or extended run with marathon-paced intervals.


While this approach might suit some, it wasn't the right fit for me. Coming from a non-track background and lacking natural speed, I found shorter, faster workouts and power-based training like hills and resistance exercises in the gym crucial to maintaining my speed. The main issue revolved around his training philosophy. In the past, if I missed a session due to health or bad weather, I had no issue shifting it by a day or two. However, in his eyes, missing a session meant it was lost, and we had to move on with the program. I've found that I make progress when I listen to my body and adapt to its readiness, rather than forcing a response. Managing my medical conditions is a constant aspect of my life, both as an athlete and in my day-to-day.


He was inflexible and reluctant to adapt. Insisting on track intervals, he dismissed my preference for the road or grass. The last time I did consistent track training was in 2019, before my first marathon, during short weekly sessions with the Cape Town based ATC club. One evening before a workout, he called and instructed me to do four 3000m repeats the following day.


My aversion to the track wasn't without reason. Numerous hard falls throughout my life have left me with a few scars…


  • I've experienced eight concussions, starting when I was six years old.

  • If you glance at my knees, you'll notice dark stretch marks from numerous severe falls. Move a bit closer, and on my left calf, there's a deep, dark line. This scar is a result of a dog attack when I was thirteen; I lost half my leg and underwent 45 stitches and plastic surgery for repairs.

  • During 2022, when I went through a series of bone stress injuries as a result of an incorrect medication dosage, three of them occurred on my left side.

  • Despite healing, it has remained my weaker leg. I fell on my left side when a pick-up truck hit me in America while I was crossing the road after practice.

  • Additionally, my left side is slightly shorter than my right, which turns out to be pretty common.

Combining all these factors, my body doesn't not like repeatedly turning left.


When I shared this with him, however, his response was simply:

‘I'm sorry to hear that. Have a good session tomorrow. Send me the times.’"

Following that session, I encountered issues with my hamstring and hip. He obviously didn’t care about what my body requires for optimal performance, taking my chronic health into account. Moreover, he never took my training and injury history into consideration. When he told my agent not to worry about my health, attributing my fatigue to marathon training and high mileage, it was conclusive evidence that he wasn't the right coach for me.


Until then, I'd been injury-free for the year. Apart from the bone stress injuries caused by a medication dosage error the previous year, I'd been running without significant issues since early 2019. While all runners deal with occasional niggles or tightness, I hadn't faced anything that required a complete stop to my running routine. Unfortunately, in the following weeks, that reality changed, ultimately leading to taking a step back.


In my following blog post, I will elaborate on the most frustrating and challenging injury I have had in my running career, and where I am now in my recovery journey.


To be continued...


~ Written by Annie Bothma, edited by Francois Bothma

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