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 | | | | Since completing Reverse Therapy I feel much better equipped to deal with day-to-day life without becoming overwhelmed and exhausted. | | JC 2007 | | | | Read more testimonials |
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Anna Hemmings
Interview by Caroline Scott
Britain's leading female marathon canoeist, Anna Hemmings, 29, spent 2½ years battling Chronic Fatigue Syndrome before making a dramatic recovery and winning both the European and World Championships last year As a kid I was always active. There wasn't an afternoon when I didn't do sport after school. I played judo for Middlesex; I was ice-skating at national level when I was nine. I spent Saturdays canoeing. My friends didn't get it. As teenagers they were going to parties and staying up late. If I went out at all, I'd be looking at my watch and then leave early because I had to get up at 6am to train. My life revolved round my training schedule.
The worst thing about getting ill was that I lost my identity. I'm such a focused, challenge-oriented person, and when I couldn't train, I didn't have a goal. I'd wake up and think: "What do I do today? Where's the challenge?" I first went to the doctor in April 2003 because I couldn't recover from training. My muscles ached and I was constantly exhausted. To begin with, my coach was very patient, but after a couple of months he said: "Anna, you've just got to deal with the tiredness." The doctor felt I was overtraining and needed to slow down. But that didn't make any sense. I sought opinions everywhere. I saw an endocrinologist, an oriental medical practitioner, a nutritionist — at one point I eliminated red meat, sugar, wheat and dairy from my diet — but nothing made a difference. I was sleeping for 14 hours at night and napping for another couple of hours during the day. Even washing my hair in the shower was a struggle, because I couldn't hold my arms up. And because I couldn't compete, I lost my national-lottery funding and then the flat I was trying to buy. That was a really low point. My mum kept reading stuff on the internet and giving me supplements, but I wasn't getting better. I didn't want to talk about how I felt. When anyone asked, I'd say: "Yeah, I'm fine." I used to cry a lot on my own, but I found it hard to open up, even to friends, because I didn't want to appear weak. A couple of people said: "Just get your act together, Anna, and stop being lazy" — it was like turning a knife in a wound. After six months the doctor diagnosed chronic fatigue syndrome, for which there is no cure, apart from rest, and I'd tried that. I went to Canyon Ranch in Arizona and did yoga and meditation; I tried spiritual healing and psychotherapy. I spent many of those sessions in tears and I just got more and more depressed and isolated. But for my friends and family, I was still putting on a brave front. I'd spend a morning crying on my own, then when someone asked me how I was, I'd say: "Oh, fine, thanks."
I'd been out of the sport for 18 months when an employee of my sponsor, Pindar, introduced me to Reverse Therapy. Its premise is that Chronic Fatigue is a mind-body-environment imbalance, and the therapy tries to reverse that. Every day I wrote a journal recording the stresses and pressures that triggered my symptoms, and very soon I began to see a pattern. I had no balance in my life. I was consumed by my sport to the point that I would do anything to be the best, even if it wasn't making me happy. A big contributor to chronic fatigue is non-expression of emotion. The longer it went on, the more I suppressed what I felt. The other big trigger is fear, and I feared the symptoms. As an athlete, no matter how bad you feel, you go out to win. The therapist hit raw nerves. He'd say: "You must feel very isolated out there." I'd cry through every session. But it was only when I broke down in front of friends that I started to make progress. Letting everything go was really liberating. No one judged me or thought any the less of me. In fact, they made an effort to drag stuff out of me. The therapy helped me realise that I constantly put pressure on myself, not just to be the perfect athlete but the perfect sister and daughter. When I began to unravel my anxieties I got better quite quickly. After three months I went for a 10-minute run and I felt completely exhilarated. The more I did, the more confidence I gained. I honestly would not change what happened, because I couldn't have carried on the way I was. I'm so much more chilled out now. I can have a late night and my training doesn't fall apart. On the start line of my first local race in over two years, I felt pure terror, but it was also wonderful to be back on the water again. The European Championships in July 2005 was my first international race in three years, and my first marathon in four years. I was more nervous than I'd ever been, because I didn't know how I'd deal with it. It was such an incredibly tense race and such a relief to finish. Winning was the icing on the cake. For me, the biggest victory was getting to the start line.
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