Cricketer Kath Koschel broke her back on the field. But the pain of losing her partner was far worse.

Content warning: This post includes discussion of suicide that may be distressing to some readers. 

Kath Koschel has a unique relationship with pain. She knows it deeply, intimately, in many forms. And she knows its capacity for transformation.

Within the space of five years, the former professional cricketer broke her back twice, each time facing the possibility of permanent paralysis. She also suffered a nicked femoral artery during one of her many surgeries, which came within 24 hours of requiring the amputation of her leg.

And in between it all, Kath experienced her first great love; a love she was left to mourn just a year later.

Watch: How to be a woman in 2023. Post continues after video.

The pain of it all still lives with her in various ways. But speaking to Mamamia’s No Filter podcast, the 35-year-old said she is the happiest, most content and most balanced she’s ever been.

"When you go through adversity and hardship and suffering like I have, you have to go to the depths of yourself to really understand who you are and how to overcome," she said. 

"And for that, I'm actually quite grateful that I've been through the things that I have, because I know myself better now than I ever have. And I know what makes me happy and what I stand for."

"Not one person saw it coming." The breaking of Kath.

The first life-changing pain Kath experienced knocked the breath out of her chest.

It was 2011. She was 23 years old and four games into her elite cricket career with the NSW Breakers, when she experienced an unforeseen aggravation of an existing back injury. While on the field, her already-prolapsed disc slid out to such an extent that one vertebrae came crashing down on top of another.

"I couldn't breathe," Kath said. "It honestly felt like I’d been shot... I fell to the ground. And then I couldn't feel anything below my waist. When that set in, I was like, 'Oh God, I think this is my back.'"

In that moment and the days that followed, Kath’s entire sense of self crumbled.

"I had built my entire identity around being able to hit a ball around a park, playing cricket," she said. "Even when I went to parties as a teenager, [the kids were] like, 'There’s Kath. She's a really gun cricketer.' And so I learned not just through my own perception of my identity, but through others', that the thing that was really interesting about me was that I was a good cricket player. And suddenly, I can't do that. And not only that, I can't walk."               

Multiple surgeries followed, one of which left her literally crawling into a hospital emergency department as blood pooled within her leg due to a nicked artery. Another groundbreaking operation helped give her a chance of walking again, which she did following months of gruelling rehabilitation.

It was in the rehab facility where she met Jim Punter. Jim, an injured rugby player, arrived four weeks after Kath. When she first saw him, again she felt the breath being knocked out of her chest — but this time, in the best kind of way.

"Immediately, I was drawn to him," she said.

"He just had a very beautiful nature about him, and [he was] very humble. I think it was within like a week, I was like, 'Oh, he's – wow. He’s taken me by big surprise.'"

They began a relationship; Kath’s first. 

Instead of long walks on the beach, they shared wheelchair races down the corridor of the rehab facility, got sprung by staff – shall we say – spending time in each other’s rooms, and went on Sunday excursions to nearby cafes.

Kath remembers looking at Jim over coffee one weekend, consumed by love, and thinking she was glad she broke her back. It had led her to him. "It was a truly unique and magical time," she said.

As months passed, Kath and Jim planned their future: a home on the Gold Coast, pets (turtles and dogs), and four kids. They dangled this vision like a carrot to lure them through their recovery.

Kath got there before Jim did. She started looking for work, even signed a lease on a house for them both. But one night before Jim was due to be signed out of rehabilitation — November 13, 2012 — he took his own life.

"It crushed me, and it still does," she said, her voice catching.

"It was so inexplicable. Not one person saw it coming, myself included. Of course, if I had, I would have done everything within my power to keep him here with us. But it was just such a shock, to have worked for so long to overcome these injuries and then within a day of literally touching it— I'll never know why."

"The most important thing that I did." The making of Kath.

The two-year period that followed was the toughest of Kath’s life. 

She felt guilt, shame and anger – not toward Jim, but toward herself. She questioned smiling photos, interrogated conversations for clues that he was suffering. She mourned the loss of their future.

"I lost all sense of self. I didn't know who I was, where I needed to go, what I needed to be. I genuinely never thought that I would ever find happiness," she said.

"I don't think I could ever compare the pain of grief and losing him to anything physical or emotional. Ever. For me, I don't think I'll ever endure anything as hard as that."

It was gratitude that set Kath on her path to rebuild herself. 

After a 'rock-bottom' breakdown, she went to spend some time with Jim’s mother, Wendy, to recuperate. There was a paper and pen on Wendy’s coffee table. Kath picked it up and started writing a list of the people who’d supported her along the way: family, friends, doctors. There were 30 names.

"I remember holding up this piece of paper in front of my face. And I was like, 'Wow! If nothing else, this is 30 reasons to keep going,'" she said. "So then I picked up the phone, which is probably the most important thing that I did, and I actually called every person on the list, simply just to say thanks.

"It wasn't like I swallowed a magic pill where my life was amazing... But at the end of it was like, 'I'm okay. I know that my life will be okay, because I have these people. And I'm incredibly grateful for that.'"

This mindset helped Kath navigate the next significant pain.

She was cycling in Sydney with friends in early 2016, training for an Iron Man triathlon, when she was struck by a drunk driver. Again her spine was broken (this time in four places), plus her left hip was shattered, her right wrist broken and her neck dislocated.

For the second time in her life, Kath was told she may never walk again. And for the second time, she was fortunate enough to defy that prognosis.

Amid it all, Kath launched the Kindness Factory, a website and social media page designed to share random acts of kindness. It’s now a global movement (followers have logged more than 5.4 million #onesmallactofkindess), as well as a registered not-for-profit organisation that develops kindness programs for schools.

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A post shared by Kindness Factory (@kindnessfactory)

Kath tours the world as a motivational speaker sharing her story and promoting the Kindness Factory ethos. She’s also recently published a book titled simply, Kindness.

"You don't go through what I have, overcome it and live to tell the story without receiving a lot of kindness," she said. "And I guess it's my job now to propel that mission and that message."

To hear more of Kath’s incredible story, including her bold, two-month experiment travelling Australia living off nothing but the kindness of strangers, listen to No Filter.

If you think you may be experiencing depression or another mental health problem, please contact your general practitioner. If you're based in Australia, 24-hour support is available through Lifeline on 13 11 14 or beyondblue on 1300 22 4636.

Feature Image: Instagram @kathkoschel/Cricket NSW.

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