Injury Setback Quotes

If I want to be the best, I have to take risks others would avoid, always optimizing the learning potential of the moment and turning adversity to my advantage. That said, there are times when the body needs to heal, but those are ripe opportunities to deepen the mental, technical, internal side of my game. When aiming for the top, your path requires an engaged, searching mind. You have to make obstacles spur you to creative new angles in the learning process. Let setbacks deepen your resolve. You should always come off an injury or a loss better than when you went down.

We all face challenges in life. This injury was one of mine, and the experience taught me a critical lesson: changes that seem small and unimportant at first will compound into remarkable results if you’re willing to stick with them for years. We all deal with setbacks but in the long run, the quality of our lives often depends on the quality of our habits. With the same habits, you’ll end up with the same results. But with better habits, anything is possible.

The two climbers looked at each other, a glance that bored all the way down to Medvetz's DNA - not desperate or pleading or frightened but resolved, almost at peace. Here were two men, united in their obsessive enterprise, their trajectories intersecting for just an instant, but an instant that contained some fundamental understanding: the long journey full of failures and setbacks, injuries and disfigurement and pain, propelled by a commitment beyond reason. Here were two men in this inhospitable place, the wind raking across the ridge, the shadows lengthening - one departing his life, the other walking back into it. "God bless you," Medvetz murmured. "Good-bye." And then he faced down the mountain and resumed lumbering along the route, toward Brice and Brett Merrell and Mogens Jensen and all the others waiting for him in the world below.

Keeping a humble, joyous attitude about your training is the healthiest way to achieve long-term growth. Aggressive goal-setting can actually do more to hurt your practice than help it. Pursuing a goal too hard may cause you to make short-sighted decisions in the moment. This can lead to injuries or other setbacks.

When aiming for the top, your path requires an engaged, searching mind. You have to make obstacles spur you to creative new angles in the learning process. Let setbacks deepen your resolve. You should always come off an injury or a loss better than when you went down.

So we got to the show that night, and despite the injuries and setbacks in rehearsal, we kept the showstopper lift in our routine. I just focused on the steps and that lift. I still wasn’t feeling the emotions she wanted me to feel. At least I wasn’t until they played the video before we danced. It’s a very emotional video and I heard myself say in it, “The worst thing I ever did was not open up to anyone during my depression.” The way the dance started was with me standing next to a mirror where you could see I looked whole. I loved that Sharna came up with that concept, because one day I just told her about how looking in the mirror made me upset. And so she loved the idea of the mirror. When the dance begins, the mirror is there and I look complete, and then the mirror turns and I’m facing it. Then we go into the dance and I turn and then I pick her up to do a move where she goes back and then we do another move where I pick her up, spin her around into a cradle hold, and then down and then we hit the floor, we push back, we go into the star form, we come down, we rotate, we grab each other’s arms, we lift each other up, we hug, and then she goes to the left, and I turn and face her. I looked at her and nodded to say, “We got this.” She ran up at me and I lifted her and locked out and when I did it, I saw the crowd jump to their feet and cheer. I was reminded in that brief moment of the wall I climbed in my first Warrior Dash. Everyone cheered and I didn’t want to put Sharna down. When we finished, the crowd roared again, and in the judges’ comments segment, judge Bruno Tonioli told me that I was a titan among men. I felt amazing. We didn’t go home that week.

Umm, yes, the stock market crashes, layoffs happen, injuries happen, illness happen.  That’s part of the game. You need to build your life so you can weather these types of events. Build safeguards so you’re okay even if the market crashes (no excessive leverage), even if you get laid off (savings + be in demand for your skill among good people), you get injured (have some cross-training ability and switch sports for a bit while healing), or illness (be ahead of schedule, not behind/frantic, so things don’t all break when setbacks occur). 

Some injuries heal more quickly if you keep moving. The same is true of setbacks in life.

We all face challenges in life. This injury was one of mine, and the experience taught me a critical lesson: changes that seem small and unimportant at first will compound into remarkable results if you’re willing to stick with them for years. We all deal with setbacks but in the long run, the quality of our lives often depends on the quality of our habits.1 With the same habits, you’ll end up with the same results. But with better habits, anything is possible.

The mortality from a hip or femur fracture is staggering once you hit about the age of sixty-five. It varies by study, but ranges from 15 to 36 percent in one year—meaning that up to one-third of people over sixty-five who fracture their hip are dead within a year. Even if a person does not die from the injury, the setback can be the functional equivalent of death in terms of how much muscle mass and, hence, physical capacity is lost during the period of bed rest (recall how quickly people over sixty-five lose muscle mass when bedridden).

Any movement toward wholeness begins with the acknowledgment of our own suffering, and of the suffering in the world. This doesn’t mean getting caught in a never-ending vortex of pain, melancholy, and, especially, victimhood; a new and rigid identity founded on “trauma”—or, for that matter, “healing”—can be its own kind of trap. True healing simply means opening ourselves to the truth of our lives, past and present, as plainly and objectively as we can. We acknowledge where we were wounded and, as we are able, perform an honest audit of the impacts of those injuries as they have touched both our own lives and those of others around us. This can be exceptionally difficult, for myriad understandable reasons. No matter what degree of discomfort our illusions cover over, the truth hurts, and we don’t like hurting if we can help it—even if we sense that something better could lie on the far side of the pain. As Nadezhda Mandelstam wrote in her searing memoir of life under Stalinism, Hope Against Hope, “It is very difficult to look life in the face.” Many of us will be ready to seek the truth only once we have concluded that the cost of not doing so is too high, or once we become sufficiently acquainted with our own ache of longing for the real. The Greek playwright Aeschylus was exquisitely on point when he had his chorus declare: Zeus has led us on to know the Helmsman lays it down as law that we must suffer, suffer into truth.[1] There are exceptions, but I myself have never encountered anyone who was not spurred along their path of growth and change by some setback or loss, some illness, anguish, or alienation. Fortunately—or unfortunately, depending on how we choose to see it—life has a way of delivering the requisite suffering right to our doorstep.

I’ve seen a positive benefit from every negative thing that has happened in my life, including every injury. My career has been filled with injuries, but not derailed by them. Too many people see an injury as something that prevents them from progressing. I’ve used every physical setback to develop in another area I wouldn’t have otherwise addressed. When I broke my right hand, I said, “I’m going to have a badass left hook when this is all said and done.” When I ended up with stitches in my foot days before a fight, I was driven to make sure I ended that fight definitively and fast. Don’t focus on what you can’t do. Focus on what you can.

One thing I have learned as a competitor is that there are clear distinctions between what it takes to be decent, what it takes to be good, what it takes to be great, and what it takes to be among the best. If your goal is to be mediocre, then you have a considerable margin for error. You can get depressed when fired and mope around waiting for someone to call with a new job offer. If you hurt your toe, you can take six weeks watching television and eating potato chips. In line with that mind-set, most people think of injuries as setbacks, something they have to recover from or deal with. From the outside, for fans or spectators, an injured athlete is in purgatory, hovering in an impotent state between competing and sitting on the bench. In my martial arts life, every time I tweak my body, well-intended people like my mother suggest I take a few weeks off training. What they don’t realize is that if I were to stop training whenever something hurt, I would spend my whole year on the couch. Almost without exception, I am back on the mats the next day, figuring out how to use my new situation to heighten elements of my game. If I want to be the best, I have to take risks others would avoid, always optimizing the learning potential of the moment and turning adversity to my advantage. That