When you’re passionate about a sport or activity, the idea of an injury forcing you to step away is almost unimaginable. For me, my ACL (anterior cruciate ligament) injury didn’t happen in one dramatic moment—there was no loud pop or sudden fall. Instead, it was the result of gradual wear and tear, coupled with months of pushing through discomfort without proper intervention.
Now, 6 months into my ACL recovery journey, I want to share my experience—the hard decisions, the lessons learned, and the steps I took to return to sport and restore my active lifestyle -- for anyone navigating a similar path.
The Injury
It began innocuously, as discomfort I could brush off. At the time, I was going to ballet class three to four times a week and contemplating my next Spartan race. The pain rarely interrupted my dancing, instead creeping in after class when the adrenaline wore off. I convinced myself it wasn’t serious, but over time, the discomfort worsened.
By late 2023, the pain had become hard to ignore. My biggest concern wasn’t just the discomfort; it was missing out on things I loved, like our upcoming trip to Italy. Determined to make the most of it, I tried Platelet-Rich Plasma (PRP) therapy. The results were promising enough that I managed 20,000 steps a day exploring Italy’s cobblestone streets, undeterred by the 250 steps to the Duomo di Milano rooftops nor the hill climb to San Miniato al Monte in Florence. But as soon as I returned home, it became clear I had pushed my knee too far. The temporary relief unraveled, and my injury progressed.
A Choice
An MRI finally confirmed the problem: I had a partial ACL tear and Baker’s cyst. This revelation came just before my scheduled ballet exams—an opportunity to advance to the next level. I was torn: Should I push through the pain or defer the exams to prioritize recovery?
A family trip to the beach was the turning point for me. I was in so much pain that I had to grit my teeth climbing up the steps to the little plane we flew in, and braced myself everytime I stepped down into a boat for a tour.
When I was back in Manila I asked my orthopedist if my knee could survive the exam, and his response—"Yes, but it may come at a cost"—hung in the air like a warning. My ballet teacher, seeing how this was all taking a toll on me, urged me to defer the exam, reassuring me that I had nothing to prove. It was the nudge I needed to step back and commit fully to healing.
Still, I was devastated. Stepping away from dance, my happy place, felt like losing a piece of myself. It was as though I was mourning the loss of a dear friend that I had been hanging out with every week for the last few years. No one knew, but during that time, I shed more than a few quiet tears.
The Bumpy Road to Recovery
Researching ACL injuries became my obsession. I learned that while surgery was often presented as the default solution, it wasn’t the only option. Recent studies show that ruptured ACLs can heal, though not always, and surgery comes with its own risks, including a reinjury rate of up to 37.5%. A conservative approach—rehab first, surgery later only if necessary—was compelling.
I committed to knee rehab three times a week at The Medical City, scheduling my sessions as close to lunchtime as possible so I wouldn't be missed at work. They started me on simple exercises like bosu ball squats and 40-pound leg presses and eventually had me throwing and catching balls while balancing single-legged on a bosu and pressing up to 160 pounds. It was actually quite fun.
After two months of clinical rehab, my doctor shifted me to sports rehab, where they started introducing plyometrics into the program. I found that trusting my injured knee during jump training was quite the mental hurdle. Bilateral jumps were fine, but it took a while before I became comfortable with single leg jumps and landings.
With my doctor’s go signal, I also signed up with a ballet-specific strength and conditioning coach, who gave me full body strength sessions, flexibility and jump progressions. No delicate plies here, but heavy deadlifts, back squats, chest presses and pull-ups. I also took several floor barre classes so I could continue to work on my ballet technique without taxing my knee.
I was a woman on a mission. This wasn’t just about recovery; it was about returning to dance stronger than before.
Eating for strength and muscle-building
Building muscle and getting stronger meant I had to fuel my workouts properly and eat enough protein. For the first time in a long time, I stopped thinking about my weight and just thought about proper fueling and nutrition.
Fasted workouts were out the door. I loaded up on protein at every meal, trying to get 1 gram per pound of bodyweight every day, and supplementing with creatine. It felt so satisfying to eventually see results in terms of muscle size and strength gains, especially in my quadruceps, which apparently is where it mattered most in terms of knee stability.
Returning to Dance
After three months of rehab, my doctor cleared me to return to dance. The first class back was nerve-wracking. I was so afraid of reinjuring myself and undoing all my hard work. But my teacher eased me in slowly, and week by week, my confidence grew.
Progress wasn’t linear. I would sometimes come back from a workout or a class with some mild swelling and pain in my knee. My doctor advised me to ice and rest it during those times and be extra mindful about when to push harder during a workout or when to tone things down and take it easy.
Lessons Learned
My journey isn’t over and my rehab continues, but I’ve come a long way. Here are some of my key takeaways:
Start rehab early. Rehab strengthens the muscles that stabilize your knee - better than any external brace. If you need surgery, rehab prepares you for an easier recovery.
Lean on your support system. Don't go it alone. Talk to your doctors and physical therapists so you're never in the dark about what's going on, and make sure your coaches or teachers know your situation so they can adjust training as needed. It always helps to have loved ones who understand what you're going through and can support you through your down days.
Be consistent. Progress requires dedication, even when it feels slow. Commit to healing.
Listen to your body. Learn when to push harder and when to rest.
Fuel your recovery. Strength demands nutrition and muscle-building requires protein.
What Lies Ahead
I’m not fully recovered yet, and I often wonder whether I ever will be. But for now, I’m loving this stronger version of me. I’ve really noticed how my workouts translate to better dancing: my jumps are higher, my balance is better, my turns are tighter, and most importantly, I’m pain-free. And I’ll be working hard to make sure it stays that way.
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