The Adjustment

Food has always been there. Through late night study sessions, early morning ice hockey practices, nights hanging out with friends, and hard workouts in the gym, food is the singular thing that was always there.  It was also the one thing in my life that it seemed I never had to worry about. Food was part of my culture—my culture as an athlete. My whole life was never all about sports, at least that’s what I thought. Never did I think my life was all about food either. Food and sports were both things I took for granted. It is only in hindsight that I can my whole lifestyle was sports oriented.

What makes a team great isn’t always the talent. It’s the chemistry. It’s the pregame pasta parties, the constant intake of energy bars and protein shakes, and the celebratory dinners. When you’re burning thousands of calories a day, food is fuel, not something to fear. My entire life, I have always been able to eat whatever I liked without having to worry. I never worried about what the extra cupcake or the three bowls of pasta would do to my body because I knew that as an athlete, I would burn it off. In fact, I always used to pride myself in being the one to always eat the most amongst my school friends. I secretly would indulge in the pleasure of being able to eat all the junk food and carbs I wanted without compromising my health and “ideal” body type.

This all changed when I lost everything I had taken for granted. I went from being “Nicole, the hockey star” to “Nicole, the gimpy girl in the sling.” I never could have imagined that my dislocated shoulder would mark the start of my battle with food. Food was my friend, food had always been there. There was nothing better than enjoying all my favorite foods, knowing I would be exercising later. I no longer have that luxury. These days, food is all I can think about. Food was my addiction, and now I’m facing the side effects. It is not that I crave eating large amounts of food, but I do crave the freedom of not worrying about my weight and health.

            My injury has caused my body to change, but the culture I’ve always known has not. The people around me have not changed. It kills me having to go to a pasta party and watch the rest of my team eat bowls and bowls of pasta in preparation for the game. I know that if I were to do the same thing, there would be consequences to my health. It is unreasonable for me expect my peers and teammates to adjust to my new lifestyle, yet, deep down, I still hope that they will. It is selfish, I know, but change is hard. It is especially difficult when the people you associate yourself with eat four to five meals a day, when you know that doing the same would not be in your best interest. Food is no longer the constant in which I can rely on. Instead, it is time to strike a new balance in my life. Adjustment is not easy, but it is necessary.