All's Well That Ends Well

The Story of My Achilles Tendon Rupture

My name is Jared Ren. I was born in the United States, and I’m a dancer with Shen Yun Performing Arts.

February 8, 2018

Sydney, Australia

That was the day that everything changed.

The day began like any other day on tour. Since we had a night show, we were able to get some extra sleep in the morning. I woke up and went with my fellow dancers to shop around Sydney and buy lunch. I remember I was quite hungry that day and ate two portions at Pepper Lunch, which was remarkably delicious (looking back, that meal felt quite like an unbeknownst last supper). We went to the theater, had dance class, ate dinner, and began to prepare for the show.

During my pre-show warm up, I began to practice my tumbling techniques, my roundoff jump in particular—a cartwheel-like technique in which your legs join together in the air, you push with your arms, and bounce off the ground with your feet. After doing the first jump, I felt some pain in my right Achilles tendon but didn’t pay attention to it, thinking it was just regular soreness from the previous few shows we’d done. I got back in line behind the other dancers and executed the technique a second time. At the exact moment I bounced off the ground, I heard a pop, like a corn kernel popping in the microwave, from my right Achilles tendon. Feeling that something was wrong, I landed on my left leg only and immediately sat on the floor. I knew instantly what had happened then: I had just ruptured my right Achilles tendon.

Choreographer Gu Yuan, who was touring with us that season, ran over and knelt in front of me, feeling both my Achilles tendons. He inhaled a short breath of dismay and immediately called our class leader and two of my fellow male dancers over to help lift me onto the platform. Our stage manager ran over to see how I was doing, made a few calls arranging for local doctors to drive over and look at my foot, and tried to console me with words of encouragement.

Sitting on the platform, I watched with a miserable heart as my fellow dancers hastily but calmly changed all the formations to accommodate my missing spot. Although time was extremely tight, people came over to ask me how I was doing whenever they got the chance. My fellow dancers gave me nothing but encouragement, even through their predicament of changing all the formations last minute due to my injury.

While the other dancers were making their final preparations for the show, I was taken into another room to await the two local doctors who would look at my foot. As I was waiting for the doctors to arrive, I heard the all-too-familiar sound of the gong, followed by the opening piece music resounding in the air. I felt like my heart had shattered to pieces with the sound of the gong, and tears instantly rolled down my face. I knew that there was a place on that stage for me, but I was not there. At that very moment, I realized just how precious and important being a part of Shen Yun was to me.

Following the opinions of the two doctors (and a subsequent opinion from a third doctor), I flew back to the United States to get an Achilles tendon reconstruction surgery. The surgery went smoothly, and I began to face the long and arduous journey of recovery.

The process was extremely rewarding, as I felt my own progress every day. From being in a cast to transitioning to a boot, going from crutches to walking again, going from walking in a boot to walking in sneakers, recovering my normal walking gait after walking with a limp, to running, and finally, jumping.

To be honest, at the beginning, my expectations of what I could still do as a dancer in the future were quite dismal. I thought that if I could just run, do some easy jumps, and dance in group dances, that would be good enough already. But each step of my recovery gave me more hope for the future. With a gradual increase of strength and flexibility, that shining light at the end of the tunnel became closer and brighter. With the help of physical therapy and a lot of sitting meditation, I was able to recover much more quickly than what the doctors and therapists expected. By the end of the fourth month after my surgery, I was ready to rejoin the company.

Present day 2024

Six years ago, I felt that my world had fallen, but today I am still going strong and can look back at that experience with a smile. My dismal expectations turned out to be just that: expectations, not reality. Throughout these years, I have been able to fully recover and even surpass my previous technical skills. Although that period after my injury was sad, it was also nurturing. It gave me ample time for reflection.

Life as a dancer is inherently one of pain and fatigue. I oftentimes just yearned to rest and forget all my troubles. Waking up early every day to practice my craft and going to sleep late sometimes due to tight rehearsals, I often craved a life of sleeping in and resting early. Going through the pains of stretching, the burning of my lungs while dancing, and the soreness all over my body the next day, I wished for nothing more than a life of slack and comfort. But once I got what I thought I wanted, was I actually happy?

During my recovery process, I was able to sleep in almost every day, had no dance instructor correcting me, and was not required to push my flexibility or stamina to the limits, but I was exceedingly unhappy. I realized that while relaxation and comfort may bring momentary happiness, doing what is meaningful to you is far more important and ultimately leads to a good, happy, and fulfilling life. While my usual life could be arduous and tiring, I understood the importance of what I was doing; I knew that I was part of something far greater than myself. When all that pain and fatigue was actually gone, there was a giant, gaping void in my life.

I remember a fellow dancer telling me after I came back to the company, "Your temper has gotten so much better." I smiled and replied, "Of course, because now I truly understand how precious this place is to me, and how small my own conflicts are in comparison. I’m truly happy just to be here." Looking back, my injury might not have been a completely bad thing after all, or as one of Shakespeare’s plays is named, all's well that ends well.