My ACL Journey

This is my first post, the first story, whatever you want to brand this, so bare with. However, this is one I’ve wanted to share for a long time, but I wanted to ensure I had the right format to share it. I believe this style might be it.

For those who may not know what an ACL is, it is otherwise known as your Anterior Cruciate Ligament. From a scientific standpoint, it is the ligament that runs through the middle of your knee, with its main role being stability. Therefore, without one, you wouldn’t exactly picture a fun experience, and if that’s your assumption, you’d be correct. It is every athlete’s nightmare. One which unfortunately consumed my life for 2 years, and I guess this story is the fall and rise of how I overcame an ACL injury, the trial, the errors, the heartache, the motivation, and everything in-between that comes from this injury.

I guess every story starts from the beginning right? April 2018, playing 6 aside for our team, Borussia Teeth, we weren’t having the best game and in the first half, I took a fat elbow to the face and my face was pissing blood like no man's business. Bit grim isn’t it? Just gave me this weird feeling of things going wrong. After coming back on for the second half, I and an opponent went in for a typical 50/50 challenge, which to be honest with you I come out on top 9/10 times in this scenario… sadly this was one of those 1/10 moments which just spiraled down.

I hit the deck, full of adrenaline but on the way down I heard a pop sound. Obviously trying to get back up, I fell straight back to the floor, with what felt like no strength left in my knee and I had absolutely no idea what had happened. Straight to A&E the next day, I had no clue what to expect but walking in with a stiff knee, who knows what it could have been? I was left in limbo for 3 months after this appointment being told ‘it’s probably just soft tissue damage, 4–6 weeks mate and you’ll be good to go’

Funny how that one turned out eh lads?

6 weeks later, I slipped over and on impact, my knee overextended and again, that same pain came rushing back. Unable to stand, unable to put any weight in it, there was clearly something underlying which nobody found the first time. I was straight into my GP the next morning, pushing for an MRI and after a further two visits, they finally gave in and booked an MRI the next week. I had a pre-assessment just before this MRI and up until then, I hadn’t even considered long term damage to the knee. Until that was when the doctor said, ‘has anyone mentioned about your ACL so far?’

Once he planted that seed, I can say this was one of the two triggers for my downward spiral.

I tried getting it out my mind and headed for the MRI, to which, if anyone has ever had an MRI, they fucking suck. Results were back in and then back up to the hospital to confirm the worst outcome possible

Ruptured ACL. 9–12 months recovery. oh, and by the way, Kieren, the waiting list for surgery is a year. ONE WHOLE YEAR. This was the second trigger for me. Aside from this, I just remember crying all the way from the hospital to home, and even on FaceTime with the boys that evening updating them on how I’d be out of the game for two whole years, it was slowly breaking me down inside. These two triggers ultimately led to me seeking guidance and actually going to visit a counselor for the best part of 14 months.

For those who may have suffered an ACL injury, or in fact any long term injury, it’s those first few weeks, the first few months which is the toughest part of the recovery. You lack independence because you haven’t got the strength to stand on your own two feet. You have to rely on other people to help you, to get you food, you’re bedridden and can’t get out of the house unless advised by the doctor. Admittedly, I left the house the same week I had surgery. Should I of done so? Well if my doctor and physio knew this at the time, they’d have shot me. However… did this ultimately help me long term? Yes.

FYI, that is not me advising anybody else to do that. Just in case anyone gets any funny ideas.

Getting out to Wembley and seeing the lads at that time was so beneficial. Not just so I could get used to crutches and move around, but actually give me that mental boost of watching football, seeing the boys again, catching up with those who couldn’t visit, etc and it was very much needed at the time. Again, talking about those triggers, this was a trigger for the RISE. I’m sure the rise is probably the chapter of this story you wanted the most because it’s more positive? Sound as then, here we go.

I actually kept a written diary from Week 6 of recovery up until the 4th of February 2020. Whilst I did not update this as much as I first intended, it certainly was updated nearly every physio session, and looking back, it’s insane to think that sometimes I was genuinely thinking that no progress was being made. By the 3 month mark, my diary states ‘We’re hitting the 3 month period where the recovery is going to escalate and the mental battle is going to be even harder. I know this recovery is hard, but I also know that this is molding me into a better version of myself’. I also finished this post by saying ‘IT’S ABOUT TIME THEY REMEMBER THE NAME BECAUSE IT ISN’T MY TIME TO CALL IT A DAY’.

Looking back now, once that 3 month period tolled over… I did not stop.

I’d gone through what was physically the hardest part of the recovery in the sense I needed my basic mobility back. I needed to now bring back my strength, my flexibility, and balance. I was now allowed back in the gym, I was allowed back into my comfort zone and my god… it was showtime. I made a playlist, I wrote down all my previous PBs, I walked back into that gym a new man, almost a man possessed, ready for war.

Every spare minute, spare hour, I was doing extended sessions. I would have a physio session, then be straight in the gym to continue the work we’d set out that morning. Every physio session, I was going in ready for war. Ready to conquer whatever was in front of me and ensure I was putting myself in the best position possible to fight back and reclaim my place on top. This is what I later rephrased in my fitness posts on Instagram as this ‘championship’ or ‘elite’ mentality,

My physio, shout out to Karen btw because she is absolutely phenomenal at her job, kept me motivated during sessions, always pushed my boundaries ahead of schedule, and would always be so impressed with the progress that was being made. She said it was ‘some of the best progress she’d ever seen’ from this type of injury and with this date in mind, 20th January 2020, is exactly 9 months since the surgery… you best believe I was going into that date being in the form of my life.

And well… luckily for us, the story has a great ending. 20th January, I was officially CLEARED in the bare minimum time of 9 months. All the sessions, all the ACL classes, all that extra work in the gym, all the hours put in just simply dribbling a football in my garden, round Lydiard, all of THIS had paid off. I walked out of physio with the biggest sense of relief, whilst also knowing the work only continues from here. And that if I kept this same attitude I had through this entire recovery through my entire life, I know I’m putting myself in a great place.

I’m going to conclude this incredibly long piece like this. Not just talking about ACL injuries specifically or just talking injuries but any walk in life which comes with a struggle… There is a way out. This process taught me over a 2 year period that sometimes, it takes a long time for things to come full circle and for a chapter to close. It is important to see that there will be times where you may sink and you may lack the motivation to do that extra bit. But, what I would encourage everybody who reads this to do… is have a vision. What is that vision you’re heading towards? Who do you envision yourself to be in 1/2/5/10 years?

This is ultimately what started my rise back up. It inspired me to power through and remember what I was fighting for. As the lyrics from a Roy Jones song once said, ‘Can’t be Touched, Can’t be Stopped, Can’t be Moved, Can’t be Rocked, Can’t be Shook’. I adopted this idea of no matter what would come at me, I wouldn’t run away and I wouldn’t be shaken by what was ahead, but I would continue fighting on, fighting for what my end goal was. And have I achieved that end goal?

Simply enough.. Yes. Yes,I did and I made it back onto the pitch with my boys, dishing out 50/50s, scoring goals, and most importantly, enjoying myself in my element. There is absolutely no limit to anyone’s success. The world is our oyster.

We move.