A MESSAGE FROM Olivia Snell
‘You get out what you put in.’
This is a phrase you hear often in the running world. You reap what you sow. If you train hard, consistently, you will be a better, faster, fiercer competitor. For people like me, however, that is just not the case.
My name is Liv and I am chronically ill.
I first started getting sick when I was a freshman in high school. It was nearly a four-year fight to get a diagnosis.
I was diagnosed with lupus when I was just 16 years old. I was a senior in high school at the time - and had been struggling with symptoms for what seemed like an eternity. At the start of lupus’ manifestation, within weeks, my thirteen-year-old, 128-pound, four-sport varsity athlete body had plummeted to a weak, 101-pound ghost of who I had once been.
Before lupus wreaked havoc on my life, I was a competitive horseback rider who had qualified several times for a dressage festival run by Olympian, Lendon Gray. I played tennis and field hockey and ran indoor and outdoor track. If there was one thing anyone would say about me, it was that I was always moving. That was not the case anymore - at least, not in the same way. My ‘moving’ switched from ‘court to track to barn’ to ‘waiting room to waiting room.’ Some days, it felt like I spent more time in and out of doctor’s offices than I did in my own home.
If you look up ‘medical lab rat’ in the dictionary, you should find a picture of me.
My body has gone through just about every test you could think of - probably hundreds of vials of blood taken at this point, CT scans, MRIs, X-rays, EKGs, EEGs, ultrasounds, cortisol tests, gastric emptying tests, tilt table tests. I take more pills and supplements throughout the day than I can count on my hands and feet. Adding to those is a weekly chemo-derivative injection, joint injections, and hydration infusions.
Autoimmune diseases, like lupus, often bring with them other autoimmune conditions. My official diagnoses now read off as systemic lupus, ehlers danlos syndrome, dysautonomia, neurogenic orthostatic hypotension, raynaud’s, rheumatoid arthritis, and liden factor v. To summarize, my body is attacking itself, my nervous system cannot communicate with the rest of my body, and my somatic systems just do not function the way they are wired to. I am in constant, debilitating pain, cannot keep on weight, work through enervating brain fog, have incessant nausea, endure fainting spells, and - in short - do not function like the normal, healthy, 21-year-old athlete people see on the outside. I have not had a pain-free day in over seven years. When lupus begins attacking specific organs, they will fail.
It is easy to throw yourself a pity party in situations like mine - but the ‘why me’s’ and ‘I don’t deserve this’s’ won’t get anybody anywhere except thrown into a dark hole of despair. I found myself in that depression hole quite quickly, but I knew that I could not stay there. To combat my disease, I found comfort in running. I am not supposed to be able to be an athlete, so every run that I go on is one run that I take back from the diseases that will eventually take everything from me. Frankly, there are days when running just makes me suffer, but this pain is a pain that I welcome, because it is there because I chose for it to be. I chose to go on a run, I did not choose to be ill. One day I may be able to run seven miles, the next only three, or maybe just one. The only predictable thing about lupus is its unpredictability. There are days when I cannot do everything that my teammates can, but what I can do, I put 110% of my heart into.
I am not a good runner at all. You will normally find me at the back of the pack, throwing up at the finish line, needing to be covered in ice so my body can cool down without me fainting. But this is okay! I do not need to be fast to be strong! Strong and fast are not mutually exclusive. Track is a numbers game - and looking at numbers, a four-minute mile is just as far as a ten-minute mile. This is a lesson everyone could afford to learn. Sometimes even I forget. I won’t race the way I want to and I will beat myself up, but just because I look healthy does not mean that I am - and I am fighting different battles than most. A war does not need to be visible to be valid! We are all working through things that cannot be seen on surface level. The best lesson I’ve learned is to be proud of myself for the battles people cannot see me fight.
I constantly find myself repeating in my head the oh so common phrase. ‘You get out what you put in,’ I read off to myself. But for me, that is just not true. No matter how hard I work, I cannot always reap what I sow. There are things holding me back that are just too far out of my control. What I can control, however, is my perspective and my attitude.
I am lucky. While many people would sneer at calling my situation blessed, I truly believe that I am. I believe that we are given what we are strong enough to handle - and I was given these battles because there is something that they can teach me. Being chronically ill has taught me that there is a soft power in gratitude. I am thankful everyday for what my illnesses have brought me - resilience, determination, grit, and a platform to help others.
When I arrived at Le Moyne in 2019, I quickly fell in love with a team that instantly became my family. I had never felt more supported or appreciated. When you suffer from an invisible illness, there are always people who do not believe that you are sick. You don’t look sick, so you must be fine, right? This was a notion I ran into frequently in high school, but not here. My teammates know that they will never understand what I go through, but they still choose to offer their compassion in every way that they can. I will find familiar faces waiting for me at finish lines, purple bracelets being worn by people I’ve known for weeks, and other runners who do not judge me on my ability, but rather on my strength. Every team has their ups and downs over the years, but I deeply believe that I would not be where I am without the home that I found in Le Moyne cross country and track and field. From my teammates to my coaches, I know that I have people to lean on. The very first day of preseason in 2019, my coach drove me back from Barry Park. ‘It’s a partnership,’ he said. ‘I teach you about running, you teach me about lupus.’ Those are words that changed me. I had never met someone who instantly believed in me the way that my coach did and does.
Quickly after arriving at Le Moyne, I founded the Le Moyne College Chronic Illness Awareness Club. In my sophomore year, I shared my story at the NCAA Student Athlete Leadership Training. Later, in my junior year, I organized a fundraising race for chronic illness awareness. These, along with a tiktok detailing a day in the life of a chronically ill athlete, allowed me to connect with chronically ill individuals throughout the country and around the globe. Essentially, I am able to help others and be the person that I wish I had when I was younger. This is the reason that I give my tragedy. If I was not ill, I would not be able to help others in the way that only someone who suffers from a chronic illness can understand.
Running has afforded me something that nothing else has. Not only has it given me a way to fight back against my illnesses, but it has also given me a platform. The connections I have made are what help get me through - and even when I feel terrible, I know that every time I lace up my shoes, that is one run that lupus cannot take from me - and every spoonie I meet is one person that will no longer feel as alone. There will come a day when lupus will take away my ability to run, but it will never take away the impacts my runs have had on me and others. Even when lupus eventually wins the war, I know that I will have won more of the battles - and for that, from the back of the pack, I am eternally grateful.
In November, I will be running my first-ever marathon at the NYC Marathon. With my marathon, I am raising money for the Lupus Research Alliance. The Lupus Research Alliance is the largest nongovernmental, nonprofit funder of lupus research worldwide. The organization aims to transform treatment while advancing toward a cure by funding the most innovative lupus research; fostering diverse scientific talent; stimulating collaborations; and driving discovery toward better diagnostics, improved treatments and, ultimately, a cure for lupus.
Being able to continue to do what I love means multitudes to me - and being able to do it in the name of something so important and close to home means even more. Please support my fundraising efforts for the 2024 TCS New York City Marathon Fundraising. No donation is too small. Please click on the donate button!
