In the self-actualizing process that often occurs in college, students sometimes part ways with their identities as athletes. Some reassess their priorities, while others, facing time constraints, exchange action on the field for time in the competitive arena of the classroom.
Yet, when a debilitating injury derails a student-athlete's career, the decision to walk away seems a little less liberating.
"I would call it an invisible injury, if anything," Sarah Kennedy '10 said of the hip injury that has kept her off the ice for most of her career at Dartmouth. "I can't sit in class for more than two hours without it hurting. I haven't had a good night's sleep without pain, in a long time. I'm sitting here in chronic pain, and no one really could know the difference."
As a freshman, Kennedy arrived at Dartmouth bent on establishing her hockey career. During the 2006-2007 season, she saw early action as a goaltender in four games, earning two shutouts for Big Green against Union College and Cornell.
Although optimistic about her nascent career, she anxiously noticed the steady wear and tear of the game getting progressively more painful.
Women's hockey head coach Mark Hudak acknowledged that players sometimes sustain injuries that do not completely impair their ability to play.
Once past a certain stage, players carry on with the game, yet do so in a considerable amount of pain, he said.
"I know a lot of girls that would much rather cut off both legs and feed them to the bears before they'd stop playing hockey because of an injury," Kennedy said. "I remember thinking that I'd play even if it meant I couldn't walk after I graduate college. I thought I could deal with it then."
"I do think a lot of them do that," Hudak said. "As a coach, in working with our trainer, there are often times when we have to hold them back for their own good."
In the cutthroat milieu of women's ice hockey, players often grit their teeth and choose to overlook the pain of seemingly small injuries.
Yet sometimes playing through the pain is just not an option.
In midst of her freshmen debut, an MRI scan revealed several tears in Kennedy's right and left hip bones. An outpatient procedure at the Dartmouth-Hitchcock Medical Center should have easily remedied the dilemma, putting Kennedy back on the ice in the couple of months.
"I woke up expecting to be ready to go in two months, but it wasn't so," Kennedy said.
Doctors discovered extra bone growth on both of Kennedy's femurs, preventing them from properly fitting into their sockets.
This genetic condition, in tandem with the continuous strain brought on by goaltending, left Kennedy in a precarious situation.
Her only option involved a fracture dislocation of her right hip and a reshaping of both femurs.
While the surgery left Kennedy virtually immobile, she spent her sophomore year recuperating and anxiously anticipating her return to the ice.
"I saw another hip surgeon back home over Christmas this year, knowing the possibilities of a hip replacement were great," she said. "I found out that both my hips had developed severe arthritis -- as the doctor said, the level of arthritis they would expect to see in a 65 year-old, and this is not an exaggeration."
Her college hockey career was prematurely cut short.
This year, Kennedy continued attending practices as part of the team, though her circumstances limited her ability to play. While the switch from athlete to non-athlete was not smooth for Kennedy, she eased into the transition by taking on a more instructive role on the team, helping the other goal tenders and videotaping practices.
"As far as the team goes, it forces you to take an entirely different role," she said. "I knew it'd be difficult to be on campus and not be part of the team."
Hudak acknowledged Kennedy's evolution on the team.
"What she's doing is much more than cheering on the team," he said. "So far, she's done a great job being a leader for the rest of the players. Her role has changed from active player to a supportive role. She's invaluable to the team."
Kennedy said she found that renouncing her hockey career turned out to be a difficult experience, both physically and emotionally.
"It's really hard to just watch everything and not really be a part of the action," she said. "You know you can't be out there, backing the team on the ice or making the tying save. You just can't really do anything yourself. It's still really hard to be on the ice every day and know that you can never play at the same caliber that you used to play at. It takes its toll on you when you realize that you suck now."
So after 10 years on the ice, Kennedy will transition from budding star goalie to hastily-retired player, a key part of her identity forever erased.
With her final year on the team drawing to a close, Kennedy reevaluated her motivations.
"I made a lot of sacrifices, but I also don't regret them all," she said. "I guess, in order to stay sane, I have to just think positive."
