Dr. T on Barbell Business
Dr. T was recently interviewed by Barbell Shrugged and featured on Barbell Business!
Warrior of the Month: Max Conserva
Max Fabrizio Conserva
I am an engineer, athlete, and adaptive athletics advocate. At the age of eight I was unintentionally engaged in a shoving match with a semi-truck. At first contact it became immediately clear that I had lost. However, not content with a simple knockdown victory, the big rig then proceeded to continue down the road dragging me along underneath. Fortunately the truck eventually stopped, allowing my life to continue. Defeat resulted in a long and intimate relationship with hospital beds an operating tables. My tractor trailer vs. pedestrian carrier ending with a cumulative 0-1 record. My retirement gift, a new unrecognizable version of my right leg, a mangled one.
I was left with an incredibly complex and unique injury and level of functionality. I soon resigned myself to the box that my disability seemed to sketched out. Twentyish years passed and I still found my condition standing in direct opposition to the life I wanted. With decades of ill fitting advice and solutions behind me, the realization slowly dawned on me: No one is going to solve these problems for me. My next thought was as eloquent as it was novel, “F*ck this, I’ll fix them myself.” No excuses, no more “what-ifs”.
I now spend my time creating solutions to push the boundaries of orthotics, orthopedics, and adaptive athletics. Utilizing the summation of my life to administer demolition to conceived barriers. You’ll find me on the workbench, training, coaching or on some stupid adventure that will probably get me hurt. I work with the amazing folks at the University of San Francisco Orthotics & Prosthetics Department, San Francisco CrossFit, Stanford Engineering, Crossroads Adaptive Athletic Alliance andIAmAdaptive. I am the creator of GoodLeg.org and MakeAdaptive.org (work in progress). #crossfit #snowboarding #tennis #cycling #running #justabouteverythingelse
Stories of Hope-Pilgrimage to the Heart
How a young military leader battled bulimia and was able to heal through a chain reaction starting with her thoughts!
A principle rule of life is that whatever passes from one’s head to one’s heart will affect every move made with body, mind, and spirit. A chain reaction of healing must take the place of a negative self-image. By a sequence of self destructive thoughts, words and deeds, bulimia infected me. Like a carnivorous, sinister monster, it controlled most things in my life, and caused unhappiness with my direction in life and overall self-loathing. What once were innocent thoughts became my beliefs!
My personal war with bulimia started as series of minor battles. From managing my food intake to my obsession with exercise, these skirmishes went to my core. I excelled at pushing myself to the point where I was willing to give up my own freedom and health to serve others. Ultimately, this mindset would accomplish any mission required of me. From an All American softball player, to First Lieutenant Marine Corps Officer, I was with the elite. On the surface I may have been calm, cool and collected; but inside I was a churning whirlpool of misguided passions. I was my own worst critic.
The chain reaction of negative events had gone so far that my body’s every movement had the tattoo of bulimia attached to it. My personal discontent had reached a point where my ability to lead effectively got in the way. Time seemed to stand still. During my deployment to the Sunni Triangle during Operation Iraqi Freedom III, my time was filled with daily missions, operational preparation, and female insurgent escort. Personally I began filling my body, mind, and spirit with fatigue of criticism, restricting, over-indulging, and anxiety. With talking to my father, a few Marines I respected, and listening to my heart, I realized I had to say something and get help or else, God forbid, I could hurt someone else by my lack of attention to detail. I was medevac’d home to the United States knowing, as explained to me, that my career in the United States Marine Corps, would be over!! In retrospect, Bulimia was the bullet with my name on it. My battle was do or die, and it needed to end.
Following my medevac, I encountered feelings of intense guilt that I did not FINISH the job I sent out to do, something very unlike me. I was on a slow road to recovery. During my first season of professional softball in Italy, I was finally able to let go of bulimia and let my body heal. Recovery took the power and strength given to me by God, the support and the encouragement from loved ones, and the constant mindfulness and flow of positive information.
My healing manifested itself in many forms of the mind, body, and spirit and I was able to heal in my mind with the help of this concept:
“May Your beliefs become your thoughts,
Your thoughts become your words,
Your words become your actions,
Your actions become your habits,
Your habits become your character,
Your values become your destiny.”
– Mahatma Gandhi
The slow and steady pilgrimage from my mind to my heart was the longest trip I ever made. I learned why crucial, positive self-talk is vital to mental health and how beautiful my mind was with re-occurring positive thoughts substituting my bad ones. My spiritual recovery was the most crucial. I HAD to rely on God, and with HIM I would have faith-talks that bolstered my belief in myself through his love for me.
My physical recovery also came with time and patience. I took part in Team-in-Training engaging in voluntary health and exercise programs that kept me active with other like-minded people. I am now a Doctor of Physical Therapy and helping people not only with their physical ailments, but also their mental and spiritual components, I find to be very fulfilling. I train crossfit adaptive athletes as well as teach mobility at my local crossfit gym. I can tailor effective workouts and exercises athletes, both healthy and those with disabilities or dysfunctions need and love to fit their capabilities. With my days centered on helping others heal, I am being healed, and I take time for myself each day to keep the balance alive. Being in a profession of always helping others, my desire to reach out has expanded, manifesting into other areas such as speaking and writing. I have been invited to speak on the subject of building healthy body image with not only young men and women, but military leaders, and wounded warriors. It is true that when you give to others, you receive, but you must first know how to give to yourself.
I give to myself through meditation, yoga, preparing a good meal, prayer, and crossfit. I am delighted to have the energy to manage personal affairs now, that seven years ago I would not have been able to do. See your struggles as a gift. Remember: what the mind can conceive and believe, it can achieve! I challenge you to take the pilgrimage from your mind to your heart, it starts with your thoughts…..
Raising Eating Disorder Awareness on a Naval Base
On February 7, 2013, I had the opportunity to speak with a number of amazing speakers at the Norfolk Virginia Naval Station on the serious topic of raising awareness of eating disorders. The turnout was tremendous, the participation was excellent, and the question and answer session at the end was meaningful for all who attended. Not really knowing what to expect or what kind of response we would get from a room full of primarily enlisted Naval seamen/women and a few officers, I could not have felt more supported and blessed to be in Norfolk that day. This was the first time I shared my story to military members and was thankful for this opportunity.
Being honored to speak after Dr. Kim Dennis of Timberline Knolls, I knew the audience was well educated about bulimia nervosa and other eating disorders as well. Initially a raise of hands of how many people in the audience knew someone with an eating disorder, who happened to be in the military showed that roughly 1/3 of our audience members had a colleague affected. I think we all had an appreciating at that moment for just how serious a problem this is.
I spoke about my invisible battle with bulimia nervosa while serving as an engineer officer in the United States Marine Corps. While I was the only Marine Corp personnel in the room that day, I believe my story really resonated with some audience members, who could clearly relate to some degree. Mission accomplished in my book! The mission of my talk was not to explain in detail what my job entailed as a Marine, but rather paint a picture of a young woman (myself) who joined the officer corps in the Marines to make a difference.
I simply wanted to be the best! Coming from a single parent home, raised by my father, and having two amazing and very protective older brothers, I was in the mindset to set the standards as high as possible for women in the service. I performed at the top of my game, so everyone thought, almost all the time. This peak performance was stifled while I was in Fallujah, Iraq serving as an escort for female insurgents, convoy commander for missions such as land mine clearing, and the formation of forward operating bases. I was suffering quietly with bulimia nervosa, and I had to call for help ASAP.
I know I am just one of many in the military who needed access to professional help for an eating disorder. The picture was beautifully painted by all the speakers to highlight how someone who is potentially very driven to high achievement and performance may have vulnerabilities to development of an eating disorder. Panelists discussed how the military will support someone suffering with alcoholism, post-traumatic stress and depression, however, an eating disorder is often masked by all the above conditions.
Because eating disorders require treatment by someone trained, it is critical for the military to provide access to care, separate from sending those struggling to a PTSD specialist or alcoholic anonymous group. It is also extremely important that service members can let their command know they are suffering, just like anyone with the above disorders, without fear of being kicked out of the service. If alcoholism, PTSD, and depression can be accepted in the service, then an eating disorder must be accepted and treated as well. Early intervention and treatments are effective in giving the person struggling the best chance of a full recovery. Service members need to have access to support groups and one-on-one counseling sessions that employ evidence-based methodology, specific to handling the disease.
As a final note, the beauty of the eating disorders awareness seminar was that all in attendance took this issue seriously and acknowledged something has to be done about it. With service members, officers, enlisted flight surgeons and civilians talking to me about my story and how appreciative they were for me sharing it, I was delighted to see they now better understand the severity of eating disorders and need for support in the service for those affected. It was a compelling day for me personally, and I felt that sharing my story and talking to fellow service members ignited my fire to want to continue to reach out and help make a change, thanks to the support of those who made this whole seminar happen such as Lieutenant Gregory, and Chief Stiles.
I am honored and thankful for my service as a Marine Corps officer. I met some of the most amazing people and personally pushed myself to not only set the standards for women high, but make a difference as a strong, humble, leader of Marines. Suffering with the bulimia nervosa 90 percent of my time caused more trauma to my mind and spirit than I wished, however my love for the Marines and dedication to my country, and fear of being dismissed from something I had worked years for, made me second guess speaking up and getting the adequate help I needed. I’m excited to see that the military is addressing the needs of those who do suffer with eating disorders, because it could be anyone from a high-performing officer to a quiet young new private. –
My Silent War with Bulimia
“Why would you want to join the U.S. Marine Corps?”
It is a question I have been asked many times. My reply has always been, “Why not?!” I desired a challenge; I wanted to make a difference, to be among the elite, and to set a higher standard for women in the military. I felt I had the right stuff to be one of the few and the proud, so I pursued my dream to become a Marine Corps Officer with spirit and drive.
My career began as a Second Lieutenant platoon commander of a combat engineer platoon comprised of 54 Marines. In 2004 as a ‘gung ho’ 23- year-old Lieutenant, my future was bright. Having played four years of Division One collegiate softball, I was used to teamwork. Thus, that is exactly how I trained my platoon: like a team. As a platoon, we supported one another for the duration of our grueling work on a Joint Task Force with the Border Patrol in Laredo Texas, during Mountain Warfare Training School in Bridgeport, California, and throughout our deployment to the Sunni Triangle in support of Operation Iraqi Freedom III.
Unfortunately, soon after I picked up my new platoon, I developed an illness millions of people underestimate and misunderstand: Bulimia Nervosa. Even though I was living a new lieutenant’s dream – working with demolition and construction, leading convoys and academic classes, conducting weapons and martial arts training, and, of course, engaging in daily physical training – I was simultaneously waging a silent war with bulimia. I asked myself, “Is this really my dream?”
In training alongside my Marines, learning from them, teaching them and mentoring them, I earned their respect through literal blood, sweat and tears. However, my energies were exhausted as I helped everyone but myself. Who was there to mentor me? Yes, I did have a company commander and executive officer, but I would not let them see any sign of what they would consider weakness. I was responsible for lives, hundreds of thousands of dollars of equipment, and worked hard to maintain my strong female Marine demeanor and reputation I would not tarnish. As I constantly struggled to keep it together I ended up vomiting my frustrations and stress down the toilet. Initially, it was once every other day, then four to five times every day. The Bulimia took a toll on my body, mind, spirit; my confidence waned along with my ability to handle criticism. On the inside I was aching for help, while on the outside I appeared calm so nobody would notice I was desperately struggling. In order to keep my career safe, I internalized all the challenges and took ‘mission accomplishment’ and ‘troop welfare’ much more seriously than I did my own health and sanity.
Ironically, I did not take Bulimia seriously. I viewed it as a disease which silly adolescent girls developed as they aspired to look like models. I was dead wrong! Why I suffered was not because I wanted to be a model. Rather, it stemmed from my lack of balance and self-love. I helped everyone but myself by constantly judging my performance, taking pride only in my ability to mentally push myself to my limits and to never give up. I became a pro at “sucking it up.” The more I covered up my illness, the worse it became. Unless you knew me well and could pick up on the frequently swollen glands in my neck, you could not tell I was sick.
Finally, while deployed in Iraq, I reached out in desperation to my father and a couple of close friends to confess my internal battle as an external one took place around me. My father wrote me beautiful letters during this time, all which offered tremendous support. Additionally, my boyfriend at the time supported me from another base in Iraq, only thirty miles away; he was so close yet dangerously distant in our war-torn province. Although saddled with major responsibility and much to lose, I knew I had to immediately make a change – even in the middle of war. This disease was like a bullet with my name on it!! The Marine Corps had to go on without me.
I had my epiphany after leading a convoy returning to a base camp in the middle of the night over one of the most dangerous roads in our region. My living quarters were an old office building and I was the ONLY female among 100+ Reconnaissance Marines in addition to my own platoon of 50+ men. I worked all day and vomited all night. I was dehydrated, malnourished, with an unclear mind and a weakened spirit. I knew in my heart I had to leave that environment and seek immediate help. If not, I would put my Marines’ lives in jeopardy. Unfortunately, I still would not admit to needing to save my own life. After extensive convincing, I chose to be Medically Evacuated (medevac’d) out of Iraq in the middle of my deployment. My medevac experience was one of the worst experiences of my life. I came home feeling unwelcomed by my command as well as people close to me who expressed disappointment in my perceived lack of effort to “hang in there.”
I never felt more embarrassed. I thought I had made the worst decision of my life. Like a broken record of a very bad dream, I’d think: “I am a leader of Marines, this should not be happening to me. Why could I not suck this up? I have never quit anything in my life. What should I do now?” A Naval psychiatrist told me that if I were to get pregnant and have a child, I would probably rid myself of bulimia. (This was only one of a myriad of ridiculous things I was told upon my return.) A Naval psychologist also asked me what kind of symptoms I was having with Bulimia? Clearly, no one seemed to understand this disease; the helpful feedback and support I sought upon my return from Iraq was almost nowhere to be found. However with a lot of patience and perseverance I eventually received twelve weeks of outpatient therapy to treat my Bulimia.
While the outpatient therapy was very difficult, it was necessary and provided me the tools to view myself differently. The therapeutic theme centered on being gentle with myself, thereby cultivating new thought processes to help me learn to love myself and better deal with life stresses. The therapy was successful but the tools I learned took time to become a habit in my life. However, I learned to acknowledge (through my good friends, older brother who was a Marine pilot, and father) that I had made the right decision and they reinforced that it took leadership to admit to not being able to give 110 % to my Marines and mission.
It was nice to believe that I made a good leadership decision, but deep down I still felt incomplete, like I failed. I did not want to end my time in service early, as I had worked too hard for what I had, but I was told by our battalion JAG officer that because I was medevac’d for Bulimia, I had to go through an administrative discharge process – thankfully honorable – but nonetheless early and incomplete in my mind. I had to swallow my pride and have the courage to continue holding my head up and heal.
With my healing mind and spirit I acknowledge that my battle with Bulimia surfaced while in the Marines, but I do not blame the Marine Corps for my suffering from the disease. Rather, there is no blame to assign. The Marine Corps and much of the world do not understand eating disorders or the prognosis of such diseases. Serving in the Marine Corps was my choice, one I am proud of and because of it had the privilege to work with some amazing and talented individuals who have remained colleagues and friends to this day. I did choose to push myself; however, I did not choose to suffer from Bulimia. I reflect on my experience and am thankful for going through it. I took myself on a crash course of self-criticism, lack of self-love, and a desire to be the best no matter what it took, even if it meant sacrificing my health. The Marine Corps brought out both my strengths and my weaknesses. No matter what happened, I know that I did the right thing in removing myself from that environment. For those few who did judge me, I would like to challenge you to educate yourself about the disease.
My battle with Bulimia finally ended in May of 2007, eight months after my Marine Corps service ended when playing international professional softball in Italy. I decided enough was enough and with unbridled anger for my lingering Bulimia, I wrote a Dear John letter. Writing is a way of expressing myself, and the letter served as a metaphor to see my bulimia as something outside of myself. This activity had a powerful effect on me and helped cleanse my mind, body, and spirit from this life-threatening disease through actively saying “goodbye” and visualizing Bulimia as something separate from myself that was trying to hurt me. The lethal weapon that was more useful than I could have imagined was this simple letter.
To this day, my Dear John letter serves as a mental exercise to remind me to stay strong in regards to my “breakup” with bulimia. Today, I am fully recovered and embarking on a career as a doctor of physical therapy. I enjoy working with a rehabilitation population that includes fellow service members, veterans, and wounded warriors. Treating, teaching, and speaking endeavors with this population through my combination of knowledge and experience about the body are my modes of giving back in a functional and life-giving way. It re-energizes my spirit, increases my love for the Marine Corps, and gives me perspective on myself that I may have never gained otherwise.
Theresa E. Hornick, SPT Prior First Lieutenant combat engineer officer, USMC (2003-2006)
This article originally appeared on SWAN-Service Women’s Action Network