This season has been the culmination of my life as a soccer player to this point: my senior year, as a captain. I’ve played and trained my whole life dreaming of college soccer and a chance at a conference championship. What’s more, I’ve labored beside my fellow seniors for three years, wins and losses together. This was our last season, our last chance, and mine ended four games early.It took a few days to really hit me. I was weaning myself off the morphine drip I’d had since surgery when I realized the extent of it all. What seemed like just a regular hit to the leg had swelled with internal bleeding until doctors were worried my skin would burst and I was rushed to surgery. A week and two liters of blood later, my leg is drained and sutured closed, and it’s still hard to believe.

But accidents are inevitable and injuries can plague athletes and non-athletes alike. They’re painful and a hassle; and they usually cost a pretty penny. Watching from the sidelines, it’s hard not to rush my recovery along. It’s hard to forget the ‘coulda, shoulda, woulda’ and stop thinking ‘what if?’ It’s hard to stay positive. Remembering the bigger picture is imperative.

“Yeah, your season is definitely over,” Dr. Wainer told me before the surgery. “But we got it in time and there’s no permanent muscle damage. You’ll live to play another day and you’ve got years of soccer ahead of you.”

He was brutally honest and the truth hurt like hell, but Wainer was right. My season is over and I can’t change what happened. Instead of wishing I could, I need to forget what might’ve been, accept the situation I’m in and fully commit myself to the recovery process. Like Wainer said, I’ve got years ahead of me and what I do now will determine how strong my leg will be then.

The whole ordeal is far from over; it’ll be months before I can even start to run again. Recovery is hard work and, while blame and lamentation may be easiest, perseverance is the key to revival both physically and mentally.

I’ve got to be diligent with physical therapy and do what’s best for my body’s long-term health. Cutting corners and rushing back may get me on the field quicker, but a mistreated injury can worsen, spread or cause permanent damage. Thoroughness and extra care now will prevent repeat injuries and debility down the road.

They say recuperation is hardest on athletes and I’m proof. I’ve gone from running to hobbling, independent to reliant. I can’t drive, walk my dog or carry my groceries. With so much time off my feet and on the couch, my brain seems to have a mind of its own and everyday is a battle against dejection.

Psychologically, energy put toward positive outlets helps to relieve the pain and avert depression. Now, my job as a captain is to support my team and encourage my replacements. I may be injured, but I haven’t lost my experience or knowledge. Where my team has been for me in the past, I now need to be for them.

Trading roles like this is a powerful experience. I’ve gone from starting every game to not playing a minute, from having people rely on me to being almost totally dependent. My month of using crutches and needing help for everyday chores is what some people deal with their whole lives. I’m glimpsing another world and it’s making me look at my own life through new eyes.

Despite all that’s gone wrong, I’ve never been more appreciative in my life. I’ve realized that the players who love the sport most are those that work day after day in practice, scarcely play in games and yet would do anything for their team. I’ve realized that good friends don’t care what time it is when you need their help; your family will drop everything and travel any distance to be at your side; and the people that love you most will stay with you for days and still feel bad when they need to get some rest.

Most importantly, I’ve learned that life can be disappointing and that we all get hurt. But there’s always tomorrow and success often looks nothing like what we’ve imagined. Although my collegiate career is over, there are many games yet to play and there’s lots of time still left on the clock. I guess it’s like they say, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.