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Three and a half months ago I was lying on my couch, eyeballs pointed in two different directions from all the drugs, and a tube sticking out of my thigh feeding pain meds right to my femoral nerve. It was hard to imagine that I would ever be moving around pain-free again.

Last week I had my 3-month check-in with the surgeon and I want to tell you all about it, and what I have learned through this process, but first I have an announcement…

In the last few years, between touring and injury, I haven’t been engaging with you as deeply or as often. Now that I’m feeling better I’m excited to get to know you better and re-ignite my creativity and coaching.

I think I finally landed on a fun way to kick it off!

Starting this month, I'm running a monthly raffle. Every time you refer a friend to Fit & Bendy, you earn one entry. At the end of each month, I'll draw one winner for a free 30-minute one-on-one consultation with me — ask me anything about flexibility, mobility, contortion training, whatever you want. I want to know what you want to know!

And here's the bonus: the more you refer, the more entries you rack up. Hit 10 referrals and you get +5 bonus entries. At 20 you get 30 entries.

Your referral link is below — share it with a flexi-curious friend.

Every person who signs up through your link = one more shot at 30 minutes to ask me all your burning questions about training, fitness, strength, mobility, performance, or how cute my dogs are. I can talk about all of that for days.

Good luck — and thank you for being part of FaB. I’m really happy to be back in action and to reconnect with you. And now back to my surgery update…

I’ll never forget the feeling of being wheeled into the operating theater on March 20th. I’ve never been so nervous for something that only required me to go to sleep. I was already four months post injury, but it had taken me that long to find a great surgeon and do all the pre-hab just to be ready for the major operation that would re-attach three of my four major knee ligaments.

In case you missed it, in November I was in a crazy accident that completely separated my tibia from my femur and turned my kneecap around, tearing everything in my knee. It was extremely gnarly and wildly unpleasant. Early assessments from the first few people I saw made me wonder if my career as a movement person was over for good.

Fortunately, I had great support and was able to find an amazing PT and surgeon who believed that I could recover.

No lie, there were days that I really doubted that recovery. Being in pain for months on end grinds down the spirit and makes every task an act of heroism worthy of Heracles himself. The weight of mortality presses down. I had to find something to keep me going.

As a child the most common criticism I received, from my parents and on almost every report card, was that I am stubborn. That has not changed, and I’m so glad.

Injury, pain, and immobility take away your ability to project power and competence. They take away your independence and, if you are someone who was previously physically confident, a huge part of your identity. And if, like me, you are a middle-aged woman then you are also told that you don’t “bounce back” anymore. You have to “be realistic”.

What I learned is not to listen to other people’s ideas about what you can and can’t do.

I’m not advocating that you ignore all medical advice. By all means take it into account. But doctors don’t know you. They don’t know your body, or what you are capable of. Be stubborn. Defy the odds. Find the obstinate old goat in your soul who just doesn’t know how to give up.

I’m also not advocating for the kind of kamikaze fitness that I practiced when I was younger. Working more and pushing harder is NOT a training plan. If 10 reps is good that doesn’t mean that 30 reps is better. You need to understand how to build progressive overload, when it is safe to push harder, and when it’s time to sit down and rest. I’ve really learned that rest is as important a component of any training plan as resistance training and building active flexibility.

But when I went into the doctor’s office last week, no knee brace, no mobility aids, I did enjoy surprising them.

Whatever wall you are up against in your life. Don’t give up. Rest when you need to. Reach out for help and marshal your resources. But even on the days that you feel hopeless—and those days are inevitable—be stubborn.

The other great lesson I have re-learned is that performance hierarchies, in which the young, perfectly fit body is at the top and everyone else sprawls somewhere below, is a fallacy. Whenever I am confronted with a creative project I always start with understanding my limitations, since limitations provide the grist for innovation. It is the same with bodies.

Limitations are not failures. Limitations are an inevitable part of living in a fragile meat suit that is subject to entropy. It is normal to mourn the loss of this or that ability, but it does not mean anything more than that you are human. Do not throw out the life you have left with whatever you have lost.

Again, I highly recommend looking to the amazing community of disabled writers, artists, activists, and athletes who prove that life with physical limitations is still ripe with possibilities and joys. Every day I remind myself that whatever abilities do not return may be missed, but that missing them should not become part of my whole personality and serve to excuse me from all the things that I can do.

If you are managing your own process of healing, large or small, and have thoughts to share I’d love to hear about them! As always, I read everything that comes in. And again, your referrals mean the world to me and I’d love the chance to connect with you for a 30 minute kiki!

Thanks for being here.

Happy Bendings,

Kristina