Great Strides
When Life Gives You Lyme
When life gives you lemons you make lemonade, but when life gave me Lyme I was lost and unable to run.
It was December 26, 2016, I had just won the four-miler at the annual Boxing Day run in Hamilton, Ont., when I was hit with the unexpected. My left knee swelled up like a balloon, making it impossible to bend. Initially, I believed I had injured it during the race, so I went to physio. I was told it was likely a torn meniscus. I was crushed but I believed I could bounce back, except I didn’t. In fact, it only got worse, and my right knee blew up as well. I was fortunate to have support from a physiotherapist who recommended seeing a sports doctor. I was frantic, still unable to run. I was desperate for answers.
On January 25, 2017, I went to the sports doctor, praying for answers. It had been a month of searching for the reason behind my swollen knees. I am a different person when I’m not running. I tried to be optimistic, but I was overwhelmed with a feeling of helplessness. Being in the dark was the most terrifying part of the struggle. Antiinf lammatories solved nothing. At one point I was taking the same strength anti-inf lammatory as my arthritic grandmother (we tried to find humour in it). Finally, when I developed a fever on the first of February, the doctor referred me for blood testing. There remained only two explanations: juvenile arthritis or Lyme disease.
I held my breath the whole time I waited for those blood results. Every day, my family hoped for the lesser of two evils; arthritis could be managed by meds, whereas Lyme treatment came with a risk of chronic symptoms. It had been three weeks with no results. My dad called the doctor looking for results before the Family Day long weekend, and
he broke down on the phone. However, not knowing is the worst kind of fear. When I finally received the results I felt relief wash over me. I had Lyme disease; it was treatable and I would run again.
Many people ask me if I ever saw the tick that bit me. The answer is no, I never saw the tick nor the bite. I likely had Lyme disease (in a dormant stage) for six to eight months before I developed symptoms. The possible symptoms of Lyme disease are endless, ever yt hing f rom pa r a lysis to heart disorders. In my case, I had arthritic symptoms with severe swelling in the knees. I could hardly walk, I was constantly uncomfortable, in pain and, obviously, I could not run.
Once diagnosed, I had a reignited sense of hope, but the road to recovery was a long one – and the road to running was even longer. One month of antibiotics was needed to cure Lyme disease and it was the longest month of my life. I hadn’t run for multiple months now – I couldn’t even walk without crutches. The high-school track season seemed increasingly less possible. I wept from fatigue, longing to pound the pavement again.
My experience with Lyme disease was sour but it also made me appreciate running and other things in my life. While unable to run, I read even more than usual. I cross-trained and swam as much as I could, savouring every moment like never before. I closed my eyes and pictured myself running. Visions of races, tracks and trails f lew through my head.
My family, friends and the Kingston, Ont. community were there for me every step of the way. Lyme disease opened my eyes to the strain that sickness puts on individuals, families and communities. It gave me a greater appreciation of health and wellness, so I worked to provide healthy living essentials in my community and at school. I gave back by making snacks for kids without lunches, reffing basketball weekly for a nonprofit league and cheering for teammates from the sidelines. Being unable to run let me focus on community work and I won a $5,000 grant for a local soup kitchen through the Youth and Philanthropy Initiative. It was fulfilling to give back. It reassured me that my experience with this disease ultimately made me stronger.
When I was finally able to run I did so with more appreciation and greater determination. I recall looking at my feet with every step, trying to remember how it looked so that, should I ever be incapable of running, I would never forget.
That track season was a blessing. I was running again, just in time to build up before racing. I told myself that the mental strength I gained would make up for whatever fitness I lacked. It was a truly terrific season. I was thankful for every race. I ran personal bests and ranked in the top 12 provincially. I had beaten Lyme disease, or so I thought.
Although I had physically recovered, I was still consumed by fear. Fear that I would get another tick bite. Fear that next time I wouldn’t be so lucky. I was scared of trail running and of grassy areas. These fears were problematic as a runner and as a Canadian. The fact that Lyme disease was continuing to inf luence my life was agonizing. Knee socks became my trademark. deet was my scent, and long sleeves in the summer were a reality.
It took a full summer before my anxiety dwindled. Education is a big part of overcoming fear. I checked for ticks after every trail run. I showered after running and had friends check my back for me. It takes 2 4 hours for ticks to transfer Lyme, leaving plenty of time to have a good look.
Lyme disease has become a part of my running story. It keeps me on my toes, which is good because I run on my heels too much anyway. Now I enjoy the ride and soak up every stride.
”When I was finally able to run, I did so with more appreciation and greater determination. I recall looking at my feet with every step, trying to remember how it looked so that, should I ever be incapable of running, I would never forget.”