I absolutely love my iPad. It literally comes with me everywhere—work, bed, the bike, sometimes even the bar. (You never know when you might have to look something important up or have five minutes to sneak in a couple of reading moments.) I read books on it, take notes on it, use it in meetings and for searching the web. What I cannot understand is why, in designing this amazing piece of technology, the Apple people would have thought it was okay to not be able to read it in the sun. Put on sunglasses and the screen is literally black. Maybe it wouldn’t matter for iPad owners in Seattle or even Michigan, but here in Colorado, we have 300 days of sunshine a year. That means 300 days where I cannot see my iPad outside. And when it’s 70 degrees in April, I want to be able to read my book outside, on my deck, without squinting and trying to invent some sort of visor for the tablet, which did not work to my dismay.

So yesterday, as I was squinting and reading Cutting for Stone (great book, takes a while to get into it…) on my porch, I took a break and checked out a blog I read sometimes—The Happiness Project. This is based off a book I read about a year back by the same name, about a middle aged woman with two children, a loving husband and a great career. Although “happy,” she feels like she could be “happier” and spends a year of her life achieving careful, measurable goals in different areas of life (marriage, work, parenting, self-fulfillment) and build on them cumulatively, using concrete steps (such as, in January, going to bed earlier, exercising better, getting organized, and “acting more energetic”). The book is funny, thought- provoking and inspires one to become happier, through their own sort of happiness project.

Her latest blog post focuses on this idea of “arrival fallacy,” the belief that when you arrive at a certain destination, you will be happy. She explains that as humans, we often imagine that we’ll be happy as soon as we get a job/make partner/get tenure/get married/get that promotion/have a baby/move, etc. I thought about this. How often had I said these exact words? “I’ll be happy when…” Now, with a knee injury and other issues going on in my life, I find myself thinking… “when I get healthy, when I feel better, then I will be happy.” What I fail to forget is that I am still living NOW. Even though my life is limited and has had its challenges, I can still have fun with friends, read great books, exercise on the indoor machines, achieve successes at work, enjoy the Colorado sunshine. Just because I am not 100 %, doesn’t mean I have to put my happiness on hold, waiting for the day when my knee doesn’t ache when I wake up, doesn’t hurt when I walk up the stairs. Sure, that day will be great and all of the PT and work will be worth it, but it doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the process. We too often wait for that ultimate day when our lives come together in perfect fashion and AH! We are finally at the peak of happiness! But life isn’t always like that- life is a mix of ups and downs and happiness is achieved when the ups exceed the downs—the downs are more tolerable when we feel up most of the time.

Yesterday, because it was so nice outside and my knee was fairly sore, I decided to take a walk up the pass instead of cranking it out on the bike in the gym. It’s been 8 weeks since surgery and I am slowly able to do more, push it harder, but I have my limits. On this beautiful Saturday, I bucked up, put on a new playlist and walked. It was late in the day and the sun was over the mountain. It was quiet, peaceful and there were times I burst out in song (thank God no one was around, I don’t exactly sound like Mariah Carey). Both of my knees ached almost the whole time. But it was a beautiful day and I could walk in a beautiful place and just think. I was happy. My life isn’t perfect by any means, but the process is worth it. Maybe some day I will get married, get that promotion, have a baby…hell…maybe one day I will be able to read my new, perfectly designed iPad in the sun without squinting.

My happiness won’t rely on those “arrivals.” I am learning to be happy with the journey, take things as they come, enjoy what curve balls life throws at me and learn a little something about myself in the process. Sometimes the best moments in life are those we don’t plan for, those that aren’t an “arrival” of something. Sometimes they are the moments limping down the trail on a beautiful day, listening to feel good music, as the sun is setting over the mountain.

The day after my mom left to head to sunny Arizona and the first day I spent back in my own house and my own bed, it decided to dump snow. Keep in mind, we have barely had any snow all season. It has probably been one of the worst years on record for Aspen. It’s one of my responses in the bank of responses that I use when talking to strangers about my ACL. “Hey, if you were going to do it any year, this is the year to do it!”Yeah. Sure. Thanks. That makes it feel better. 

Last night, Bree made dinner for everyone and we all sat around, drinking wine and chatting. It was so nice to be back to normal- not hiding from everyone in a hotel or a friends house, just at my own house. There’s something to be said about making your life as normal as possible during a time like this- when everything else is exactly the opposite. I find comfort in normalcy.  I drank a few glasses of wine (don’t worry, I’m pretty much off the pain meds. I learned that lesson.) and really enjoyed everyone’s company. Lots of laughs- it was good for the soul. Although I was off the pain meds, I am still on crutches and getting myself to bed last night after a few glasses of wine was interesting. I can hear my mom now making her “tsk” noise and saying my name “Errinnnn!” Hey, it’s cool, I made it. I was in desperate need of wine, Mom. I needed it, seriously.

When I got to physical therapy today, I realized in all the hassle of the snow this morning, I forgot gym clothes. Thankfully they have extra clothes in PT. Amber brought me back very unflattering navy men’s shorts and a Katy Perry t-shirt. I threw them - they looked great with my geriatric compression socks I still have to wear. I know what you’re thinking…yikes. So was everyone else. Lesson learned.

I’m pretty sure even Amber said “yikes” after taking this picture.

Amber measured my swelling and its gone down significantly. She also said I could go down to just ONE crutch- Victory! She massaged my leg and moved it back and forth, the bend in my knee is over 110 degrees at this point which feels great. Amber then took me over to the cardio deck and we did some non weight bearing squats on the machine and then my favorite, The Airdyne. I am inches away from bringing the leg all the way around. I told her when I get to one point on the back swing, I feel like my knee is going to explode. She said it won’t. That wouldnt be pretty, especially wearing a Katy Perry t-shirt. Afterward, I did more quad exercises and leg raises with stimulation. It felt much easier than Saturday and I was able to bring my leg up without much pain. 

Physical therapy has become the highlight of my day. It’s no powder day, but every day my knee feels better and better and every day is a new challenge and a new story. I feel encouraged from everyone’s enthusiasm about my progression and my knee feels so much better when I finally leave after the hour and a half session. I am so grateful to have Amber and all of the aids helping me on this journey, as a patient, coworker and friend. I have already begun to think about what gift I could give back to them, to show my appreciation after all of this. I think I will clean out my closet and donate my old workout clothes to the “I forgot my gym clothes” pile. No one should have to face the gym in a Katy Perry t-shirt.

Some of you have asked me if this ACL injury has anything to do with the most recent health mishap of the femur shatter possibility due to a cyst in the bone. The short answer? No. The long answer? It could have something to do with it since I wasn’t exercising as hard when I had the femur shatter possibility due to a cyst in the bone, causing my balance and strength to be not up to par and when I caught that ski edge, I wasn’t as strong to pull myself back up. That’s my theory. I’ve played this over thousands of times in my head and I think my theory is accurate. I’m sticking with it.

Here’s the recap on the cyst situation: I had knee pain in my right leg for about a year that began causing normal activities to be compromised. Had an MRI in November 2010 to check it out (see previous explanation of MRI) and a cyst was discovered on my femur. Took the results to an ortho in Aspen. Aspen Doctor said it wasn’t causing the pain and that good PT would help the arthritis that was also discovered. Back to my normal activities after a few sessions at The Awesomest Physical Therapy on the Planet. Fast forward one year later- knee pain still persists. Hurts to walk up stairs. Send Dad my MRIs to have a second opinion from his doctor in Michigan. Michigan Doctor alarmed. Says he can’t believe I have been skiing- the cyst has weakened the bone and could shatter at the smallest impact. Set up another appointment at Steadman in Vail- MRI and follow up. Vail Doctor agrees with Michigan Doctor. Oh and now there’s a dark spot in the cyst. Cancer? Sends me to a cyst and tumor specialist in Denver. Takes two weeks to get in. Feelings of paranoia set in. Drive to Denver, see the specialist. The cyst is taking up bone marrow and is not pressing on the hard part of the femur. I have probably had this since I was a teenager, he says. It’s rare which is why the other doctors were alarmed, they might see something like this once every 5 years. He also sees the dark spot. Orders a biopsy with a large needle. Biopsy negative. I can ski! This was concluded the Monday of “the accident.”

That Friday, first day back on skis, happy as a clam to be out on the mountain with a clean (sort of) bill of health, we go up to the top of Elk Camp for our first run of the day and ride down to Alpine Springs. Route taken? Naked Lady. Bam. Down. Split second. ACL gone. Other knee.

I don’t think I was meant to ski this year. I get it now. 12 days on my $1,499 pass. That’s $125 per day. It’s skiing in Aspen…$125 well spent. Although I had 48 days less than last year, I am still happy to have been out there. At least I can still call myself a 6 season Aspen/Snowmass season pass holder. I guess. (Hey at least I hit my deductible for the year. Hello free health care!)

I remember five years ago when I first moved to Aspen and was working for Ski School at Snowmass, we had a presentation about “ACL prevention during a fall.” First of all, I didn’t know much at all about an ACL injury. In Michigan, it just doesn’t happen as often. (Maybe I just wasn’t skiing hard enough?) The presentation included the three to five or so phases of a fall and what you can do in that split second to avoid this injury. Basically it was something along the lines of this:
              ► In a fall, keep your arms forward and your hands over your skis               ► Don’t fully straighten your legs when you fall -try and keep them bent
              ► After a fall, don’t try to get up until you have stopped

I remember thinking, “Yeah, thanks for this awesome presentation. I will definitely remember these 3-5 steps when I am plummeting to the ground at record speeds.” I guess I should have paid more attention…story of my life.

The day after my fall, after a night of constant ice and more Vicodin, I headed into The Awesomest Physical Therapy on the Planet- a.k.a The Sports Medicine Institute at The Aspen Club & Spa. (No I am not bias just because I work there. It really is the awesomest. See for yourself: (970) 925-8940. Talk to Alaina- she’s a Michigan State grad and the Manager of the department. A Spartan running the department? Just another reason they are the awesomest.)

I hobbled in on my crutches and was greeted by Jasmine, one of the PT aides as well as a receptionist. She gave me a care package of movies, pretzels and homemade granola. If I told you they do this for every patient, I would be lying. You have to be special…good luck.

Amber Matthews, our newest PT, came to the waiting room and gave me a hug, telling me she was sorry to hear what happened but that they would have me on my feet in no time. She took me to her room and examined my very swollen and very sore left knee. She also concluded an ACL and MCL injury and spoke about what to expect. She also told me that she had a ton of experience with the injury including a torn ACL herself- all while massaging the fluid filled knee and reassuring me I was going to be better than new when it was all over. This girl may be young, but she knows her stuff. By the end of the examination I was already bending my knee 110 degrees, only 10 degrees away from what a doctor would deem operable.

Amber explained that sometimes people wait months before actually having an ACL reconstruction and that you don’t necessarily need to have surgery right away. The disadvantage of waiting is that the knee is fairly unstable and can be at risk for more injury. She told me that it’s about 6 months after surgery until I am able to do any sort of twisting or pivoting type exercise. Although you are back on your feet quickly, the entire process is a long one and for me to be prepared. I appreciated her honesty, now I knew what to expect. Thank god The Awesomest Physical Therapy on the Planet is located exactly 104 steps from my office chair. (Yes, I actually counted. I’m a compulsive counter.) Guess I know where my lunch break will be for the next three months.

Amber then set me up to do E-Stim (otherwise known as Electric Stimulation-is the elicitation of muscle contraction using electric impulses) and ice in the Modalities room. She finished up the session with a spiderman-like tape job, called Kinesio Taping which she said would help with the swelling. I thoroughly enjoyed being in Physical Therapy. I would say it was actually the highlight of my day. (My day wasn’t that exciting, okay? I was in a leg brace.) Everyone treated me with a genuine concern and with lots of care. Even though I have worked at The Aspen Club for 5 years now, I have never needed Physical Therapy, so this was a totally new experience for me!

My first day out of the house and to my place of work proved to be quite the excursion. I learned very quickly to give three versions of my story, depending on the person asking.

Version one (reserved for close friends, coworkers I see on a daily basis and close family members): See prior blog post. The story in its entirely, complete with feelings, thoughts and my own person medical conclusions.

Version two (reserved for people I see on a daily basis, know my name and acquaintances I might hang out with on occasion): A shortened version- recap of the fall and plans for surgery, concluding with the statement, ” I mean I get why so many people do this to themselves, it’s not like I was doing anything cool. Be careful out there!”

Version three (reserved for anyone who looks at my knee brace and says something like “ouch” and the random people on the street who decide to comment on my gimp leg): A simple shrug of the shoulders and one word: “ACL.”

Personally I like number three the best. Most people in this town know what a torn ACL is and understand how much it sucks. Maybe I will just use number three from now on…

My story of tearing my ACL isn’t all that cool at all. (Which I have heard from my other ACL friends in Aspen, that that is usually the case.) According to Wikipedia, my source for everything, the anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) is a crudiate ligament which is one of the four major ligaments of the human knee. See picture below:

I was on rather new skis, I hadn’t skied in a while (from the previous “mishap” of the femur shatter possibility) and I wasn’t as strong as I normally am. It was a sunny Friday on Snowmass Mountain, I was with three friends and we were cruising down a “groomer” (named after the fact that it has been groomed: the process of manipulating snow for recreational uses, usually using a snow groomer vehicle- Wikipedia). Keep in mind I have skied for 23 years, including 7 years of racing in high school and college and I have taken some pretty nasty falls. I caught an edge on Naked Lady- a run I have heard gets its name from all of the bumps and curves, and fell fairly hard to the ground in a flurry of snow. I laid there for a second, in shock, until an older gentleman skied up and asked if I was okay. I said no and to call ski patrol because I couldn’t move my leg. I wasn’t in pain so I knew it wasn’t a broken bone but my leg felt limp and I just knew something was wrong. He skied down the 500 yards to the chairlift, called for my friends and called ski patrol. 

Meanwhile, two older ladies were attempting to get my skis off, to no avail. I was right below one of Naked Lady’s “bumps” and in danger of being smashed into. Ski patrol was on the scene rather quickly and my friends had made it up the pitch. Ski patrol strapped me into a sled and the ride down would have been fun had I not been cursing myself for the stupid fall. We arrived at the Snowmass emergency clinic, a place rather familiar with this type of injury. I was stripped down to disposable shorts, x-rayed and examined by a doctor.

Bree took this picture “just in case this is nothing and we can make fun of you later.” Which it wasn’t. Thanks Bree. :)

Sidenote: I was reminded at this time of the motherly saying: “Always wear clean underwear, you never know when you might have to go to the doctor.” Although I was wearing clean underwear (too much information??), I had not showered and my toes were disgusting from lack of a pedicure in weeks. Although I am sure they have seen much worse, I encourage the advice and remind you that I had not planned on going to the doctor that day.Always wear clean underwear.

The conclusion was a torn ACL (the test is simple for this: the doctor looks for stability, strength, range of movement, swelling, and tenderness. Tests for stability include a Lachman test and a pivot shift test. The Lachman test compares the degree of looseness, or laxity in your knees). I also probably had a tear in my MCL (see above picture again) but that isn’t treated through anything but ice and time. An MRI and a visit with an Orthopedic Surgeon would determine the next steps. I was amazed at how easy it was to have a debilitating injury such as this. It was a simple slip on my skis and now I was about to undergo about 6 months of my life being altered.

They sent me home with a prescription for Vicodin, a brace, crutches (with the fancy ice grips on the bottom) and a bill for almost $1,100. Another sidenote: Get insurance if you don’t already have it. This is only the beginning of something which I have heard costs about $50,000 not including Physical Therapy. Yikes.

That afternoon as I sat in my room going over the fall over and over in my head, I realized how much I took for granted in my life. This sort of injury requires TONS of assistance from other people- getting up the stairs, carrying stuff, changing ice packs, etc. I am lucky to have so many people in my life who can help me with all of this. That evening, my roommate made a delicious dinner and I sipped on a glass of wine, knowing that I was going to get through this with flying colors because of all of this help from those around me. And I felt fortunate to have them in my life when there are so many people who do not have that kind of support. I felt at ease, even the first couple of days when it hurt to move and hurt to think about what I would be missing in the coming months. Thank you to those people who put me at ease, you know who you are.

Last sidenote: Do not drink wine with Vicodin. Even one glass and I was off my rocker. Woops.

My name rhymes. My parents really don’t have much of an explanation for it except that they didn’t say it out loud when they named me: Erin Lynn Robinson. (You have to say the “son” more like “sin” for it to work). Another thing that rhymes with my name is “win.” Kind of ironic since this is not a story about winning, rather one of a struggle toward success. So in the end, I guess I expect to win. I want to win, come out on top, better than I was before. Just like my name suggests. I owe it to my name.

I live in Aspen, Colorado or as some might call it, “la la land.” Here in sunny Aspen, we don’t lock our doors, experience much crime at all and have it pretty good. (Please don’t break into my house, that’s just mean.) In a way, it makes you take life for granted. Nothing bad ever happens so you come to expect life to be like that. Easy and carefree, like a bluebird powder day on the mountain.

I work as the Marketing Manager at The Aspen Club & Spa. I have awesome coworkers, a great boss and I babysit for the CEO’s 3 beautiful children. It’s like my family away from home. I am originally from just outside of Detroit. My dad taught me to ski at the early age of 5, on Rossi’s with the rooster on the ski tips. My dad says I loved skiing from Day 1 and hated Ski School because we watched movies and ate greasy food half the day instead of skiing. I just wanted to ski.

We visited Aspen as a family when I was twelve (I have two younger sisters as well). I have a picture of us standing in front of the Gondola plaza- me with huge 90’s bangs and an old school Patagonia vest, something I begged my dad for because my friends all had one. The mountain sparkled in the background and I sparkled in my smile. I wrote in my journal (I have always kept a journal, since the age of 7) that I loved Aspen and I wished I could move there someday. That “someday” ended up being the first week of October, 2006.

It’s been 5 years and 6 ski seasons that I have lived here. I have worked in 5 jobs, 3 of which have been at The Aspen Club. I have made some amazing friends who share many of my same passions. I have lived with a total of 23 roommates in six different places. I have partied until the wee hours at the same 4 bars night after night and have made memories that will last a lifetime. I have learned to ski ridiculous powder, I have climbed some of the highest peaks, I have run a half marathon and I have realized that no matter what kind of shape I think I am in, someone is always huffing and puffing just a little less, beating me up the mountain by just a few steps.

I have always been rather healthy and pride myself on the fact that I believe most sicknesses are mental- I can actually will myself to not get the flu. I have had a couple of health “mishaps” as I like to call them- freakish health scares that don’t happen to normal people. An 8-lb tumor in my stomach, a rare allergy where I grew welts on my face, melanoma at the age of 25, a large hole in my tooth (from gummy bears, I swear.)  and a cyst in my femur where, for a while, the doctors thought I might completely shatter the largest bone in my body with the slightest impact. But this isn’t the story of a freakish health scare. This is the story of something that is quite common in your average Aspen (or any ski town for that matter) local. In fact, I have been congratulated on becoming a true local for this injury. One week and three days ago today, I tore my ACL.