Archive for February, 2013


Physio rehab

Over the years I took to extensive training and tried to find new ways to challenge myself physically, mentally I’d taken a back seat. Through the training I got stronger to a point where I was able to squat about 95kgs to the ground with no problem. During a training session with my former coach I mentioned a very sharp pain in both my hips. He asked me to keep pushing on so I did. Weeks passed and it got progressively worse..

Xrays of the hips were taken, these guys were stumped.ImageImage

 

I went through to MRA procedures and 4 months with a physician before diagnosis. An MRA is where they inject a metal dye into the joint so they can see any inconsistencies, at first I was told I had none. The second one confirmed a tear in the Labrum http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Acetabular_labrum ( just in case you’re wondering.) I hadn’t been able to train for 9 months properly so I was relieved to have a diagnosis. however it’s not one I was hoping for.  So I have two labral tears, one in each joint., such a cool machine though!They look for a break in the fluid, so if it goes anywhere else except in the joint. First Image there is no contrast. last two there is contrast.

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they sat me down and said look, they are only 8mm and they need to be 15mm for operate on in order for them to repair them. SO instead my lovely sport physician said we’re going to condition the muscles so they they stay in the joint ans prevent the tear from getting bigger.

 

Rehab is very aggressive! I don’t even need too do any training really.

 

So here it is

 

kettlebell cleans 10-20 * 3

kettlebell snatch 10-20*3

kettle bell swing 10-20*3

single leg squat 10*3

swissball bridge 15*3

dyna band lunges 20 steps

Dyna band side steps 10 *10 each way ( OUCH)

Single leg hip raises 15*3

 

I better be a skinny mini at the end of all this!!! 😉

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It’s been a good few years since I wrote anything, whether it be to myself or others, at least something meaningful or reflective. The blog seems to e the next best way to write, post and reflect on my life so far. More of a rant and share than a story.

Born in Zimbabwe in 1989, I lived a life that was simple, carefree and full of love and family. I have no memory of a cloudy day or thunderstorm. Even though there were plenty it wasn’t a memory I had, I only saw the sun, the perfect life for any child. Outside life, we didn’t have computers and games, no mobile phones. Nothing of that sort. Who needed it when you had such a beautiful playground.

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The home I loved and lived was perfect, for many years. We had horses, we rode and competed whenever we could, we were a lot more fortunate that most families in ZImbabwe and for that I could not be more grateful. I went to an all girls school with a very religious outlook. i had been Christened a Roman Catholic, attended a Jewish creche and an Angelican primary school. Clearly a lot of confusion, not that to me it matters. It gave me an insight into other ways of life.

My mother is from Chritschurch in New Zealand She’d travelled from New Zealand and backpacked from England all the way down Africa  to Zimbabwe where she met my father and my father was born in Zimbabwe and is what Zimbabwe would class as coloured, he didn’t have it easy before independence, he worked as a fireman on the railway and worked hard to get his own transport company up and running.

The years went by, faster than I would have liked, a happy family and life with my mother, father, brother and sister, I was close to my dad, I used to wait for him to come home every night by the door I’d sit on the rubbish bin around the corner and “surprise” him without fail I’d be there. In the 3rd grade my sister left for university, I was 8 she must have been 18 at that time. We don’t really know each other very well. It seemed like after she left, the family started to unravel.  One small thread had come lose. I remember when she left, we left her in New Zealand on a trip over to see mom’s side of the family. New Zealand was always very surreal to me. So green, it had a unique smell and feeling. I feeling of distance and seclusion.

The next 2 years were normal and ticked along, I have one very memorable moment in the 5th grade. I had fallen from my horse and split my eyebrow open, had two stitches in my head, which felt minor to what heart ache followed. Being home and for maybe the 3rd time in my life I’d heard mom and dad fight. Dad left and didn’t say good bye. He left the house, I waited an hour, 2 hours ,he didn’t come back. To a 10 year old girl, her dad had left forever. I remember telling a girl at school that I no longer had a dad. As I write this I realise I was the child that was going through a change in family, almost life divorce and looked ok about it. The days of sunshine weren’t so clearly remembered after that.

A few days later dad came back, however it was never the same. He’d go out at 5:30am and return at 7 or 8pm. For a man who had his own business those were very long hours. I never waited by the door again. I don’t remember where my brother was for this it’s a bit blurry.

Grade 6 and 7 were normal and like most girls we get teased about our weight, i’d gained a lot of weight almost over night. 55kgs at 11 years old, and very short. I wasn’t very athletic then at all. I enjoyed school and for the remainder of it all, I seemed to almost just cruise and just get on with my life. Never had trouble with home work, just did it. Apart from the spelling book i left and school, a few times.. I did catch a hiding for that, needless to say i never forgot my spelling book again.

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At this stage Zimbabwe had started to change, very slowly small items had become more expensive, school fees were steep, however for me, my biggest worry was choosing a high school I’d fit in to. I was accepted to an all girl school. Which I remember my sister had been bullied at so I chose the more unruly school that was called “Speciss College”. everyone associated it with troubled student and drugs. However, I loved it.

I made life long friends and life long changes. In 2000 I started high school, a very innocent, quite slightly over weight girl had found somewhere to grow and become herself. I still horse rode and I was great at it. I rode nationally and internationally. I did alright in school up until form 2 (14yrs old). My brother who I idolised left for New Zealand to pursue a career and head towards a much better life. At this stage Zimbabwe was still turning. It now  $25 for a single bottle of coca cola. The land reform had started and I remember friends from primary school families were being lifted from their farms forcefully. Friends lost family members and lifestyles in mere hours. Zimbabwe’s whole atmosphere had changed. This was no longer a peaceful place to be.

At 14 no one in my year was aware of anything that had been taking place politically. We went to school, had fun and were totally unaware. We had days where we wouldn’t go to school due to riots in the streets ( a stay away) or aggressive strikes due to the location of or college, it was in the city. My friends and I just took it as a day to spend together at my house walking tot he shops and hiring movies or going to the movies. At this stage I had asked my mom if it was alright to go clubbing. As most of my friends at 14 did she allowed it. I was home by 11 though. My first few times out I promised I wouldn’t drink. II kept that. However soon enough I found myself drinking more than I knew was possible.

I had a friend from riding who I had know since i was 5, around all the time. She was my best friend and still is. Her name is Kerry. Mom wasn’t very happy with me being in her company as Kerry was allowed to do most things. We went clubbing at 14 and avoided what trouble we could. However we found our selves very drunk very often. We continued  at 16 we went to no under 21 clubs and met a lot of older people and we loved being around them. At 16 I also got my drivers licence. I found I’d leave the house and stay out as much as I could. Things at home were not good. Mom was upset alot and cried a lot. She had told me most of what had been happening with my dad and her. I was no longer a daughter but an ear and a friend. She needed someone to listen. I then found out that dad had another family. My views of my father as if they wren’t warped already had turned even worse. I couldn’t stand to make civil conversation with him. I hated how he had made mom feel and what he’d done. She’d given up a whole life just to start one there with him. I told her to leave and she stated how much more complicated it was. At the time I didn’t understand, why can’t you just up and leave. At 16 my horse riding started to dwindle as there more entertaining things such as boys, I rode at events however my horse had become allergic to a plant at the stables he was stationed at and had to be moved. I gave up my lease on him and took on the odd horse from the stables to shows.

At 16 I had my first proper boyfriend, needless to say it didn’t last long, 6 months and it was over, I had found him emailing a girl I actually knew about how he’d chose her over me. We’re still close friends, of course when you’re that young it doesn’t really matter, it just hurts but you forgive pretty easily. I was in and out of relationships with older men for quite sometime.

ZImbabwe had become dangerous and hyperinflation had set in. Small things cost $1000’s, we had a $1000 bill. I drove out the house one night and unknowingly to me 4 men walked in behind my car, i didn’t see them. They walked in the house and clobbered my father and held a gun to my moms head. they took jewellery, mobile phones,  training shoes, perfume and nearly took a car, it had a tracking device on it. I returned to the house to find my dad limping out and my mom walking with him and his brother. I went in with my few friends and they had ripped the phone lines out, and opened everything. I’m grateful that everyone was still alive, my mom stated that she had lost everything. I felt somewhat responsible for not being more alert.

From there life continued, I’d go out, get very drunk very often, little did I know that was very very depressed and quite often the thought of suicide crossed my mind. I was quite ok with the idea of it. I didn’t realise how abnormal it was. I felt it was normal to be bitter and very volatile at that age. Mom wasn’t too worried, mind you she had her own emotions and troubles to cope with. She didn’t need a teen acting out. I never snuck out she always knew where I was, I always had my phone and she often saw me when I’d come home drunk. I had a clubbing experience where as a friend of mine were leaving police came in the machine guns, cut the music and told us to sit on the floor. We were separated men from the women and searched and asked for ID. Mine was in my car. I tried to explain this to a police officer only to get kicked in the leg and thrown in a holding cell, another girl was slapped several times for trying to explain her situation. , I was lucky enough to have my friend get my ID so I could get out. I’m not proud of any of this at all, it was a very sad and lonely time and I spent a lot of it with music and my bed. I had a lot of friends but I was always the turn to person, not the on who would turn to others.I had also become sick and had been diagnosed with cancerous ulcers, life still seemed the same. They treated them with 6 months of medication. I haven’t had them checked since.

At 18, i’d failed 2 a level subjects and my country had been struck with a fuel, food, electricity and water crisis. We’d import fuel form South Africa and siphon it into tanks, We’d bring food as well. I was given the option to go to New Zealand to study and I felt as if I didn’t have another choice so took it. It was only after I left had I realised how bad Zimbabwe had gotten. Landing in Australia and having a pick of anything I wanted. I was like a kid in a candy store. I landed in Australia and weighed a low 59kgs at 5ft 9. I had left my friends and life in Zimbabwe. I now had to grow up and look after myself. I hadn’t figured this out yet.

I didn’t know how to protect myself yet and found myself in a situation where I was sexually abused by a guy i was seeing, He was friends with my house mates. I thought it was all normal and that it was my fault. It took me two years of self loathing and believing it was all my fault to realise how much it had damaged me. Someone who had become very out going had become a recluse, sad, angry and uninspired person. The whole world felt cold, a new depression had set in. I didn’t talk about it, it came out on a trip to ZImbabwe when my mother told me I had become the most miserable person.I told her she didn’t know what i’d been through. She made me tell her and she said that she couldn’t help me. I didn’t expect her to. She made me promise to find help. When I returned to New Zealand, I did just that. I found a counsellor to go to and open my eyes that had become so heavy and clouded.

After talking and working on myself the world seemed brighter. i could get up and not feel brought down by everything. I felt I could actually get out of bed.  I still missed home, so much. I began a relationship with a gentle man from South Africa, he was Muslim. He was lovely and showed me a lot. We came to an end due to religious reasons. I wasn’t prepared to become muslim over night and I could never promise it. I did take it on board to learn about Islam. I again learnt more about myself that I didn’t think existed.  Like all religions though there is always something I don’t quite agree with, however thats another topic completely. I became more patient and thoughtful of other people and how they may view different situations and also tried to place myself in their shoes if they had said something offensive.

I’d originally come to New Zealand to study interior architecture, I found my heart wasn’t in it. I had been in the gym for 6 years and found that this was my calling. My trainer in Zimbabwe Walter, had coached me well in weight training and track work, he’d become my close friend and I leaned on him when ever I was having a hard time.  I longed to find something that made me happy and becoming a trainer seemed like the best idea. So I did just that.Image

I now work for the YMCA, a not for profit organisation and I am currently making storm trooper armour to wear for childrens charity, mostly for children who are unwell and are in hospital. It’s for the 501st legion.

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Zimbabwe has come a fair way too. It still has a hard struggle ahead but I believe it will come through. I’ve come a long way from my small beginnings, a lot has happened in 24 years however that is only a snapshot, after a trip to Zimbabwe and an explosive argument between my father and i, we made peace and I realised that I only have one father and only one life to really have him around. We talk often now where we had never before. My sister and I aren’t close at all and a lot of the family are distant. My brother and I are in touch here and there but I know it’s a work in progress. There have been plenty very joyful memories and many more to come.Image

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