So much for athleticism. Here I am, doing my fatherly thing..coaching my son's basketball team. I'm subbing for a kid who has to pee during a practice. No problem, I can play with these kids, right? Bring the ball up, give and go. Pass to the middle, a little high, up I go and down - with a thud and a scream. Rolled my ankle. Nothing like a bunch of 11 year olds to carry you off the court to put things in perspective.
I put my foot up, try and not let the kids see the pain that I'm feeling. "I'm fine" I tell them. Just play, I'll coach from the sidelines. Drive home, open my sneaker and take off my sock and it's already blown up like a softball. I ice it for the night take a few Advils and the next day will be all fine and dandy, right?
Uh, not so quick my ankle says to me. The next day I'm in pain...there will be no gym apparently this morning. But a few days off, right? That's all my body needs. I'm a fine tuned...specimen of a...again, apparently not.
By the end of the week, there's little, if any improvement. My ankle is still very much swollen, and is now turning a beautiful shade of purple..on both sides of the ankle. Clearly, not a good sign. I'm hobbling around like an old man, which, I'm starting to feel..is what I'm becoming.
Make an appointment at the Orthopedist, x-rays, MRI, soft-cast and surgery is a distinct possibility. I'm told I'm lucky. A few years ago, and I'd be in a hard cast, like the paper-machete stuff. I tell the technician that a few years ago I would have gotten up off the gym floor, brushed myself off, and played the rest of the game. I don't consider myself so lucky.
I've noticed the change. Knees creaky and popping. Snapping in my neck. Achy shoulder here and there. I go to the gym 6 times a week. Thank god I'm in shape, otherwise I wouldn't be so out of shape.
Age has a funny way of sneaking up on you. How sexy am I gonna be when I meet my next Craigslist killer limping like a Florida Grandpa with a ski boot on? How irresistible is that?
I am lucky for one thing: Thank god I didn't break a hip!
I put my foot up, try and not let the kids see the pain that I'm feeling. "I'm fine" I tell them. Just play, I'll coach from the sidelines. Drive home, open my sneaker and take off my sock and it's already blown up like a softball. I ice it for the night take a few Advils and the next day will be all fine and dandy, right?
Uh, not so quick my ankle says to me. The next day I'm in pain...there will be no gym apparently this morning. But a few days off, right? That's all my body needs. I'm a fine tuned...specimen of a...again, apparently not.
By the end of the week, there's little, if any improvement. My ankle is still very much swollen, and is now turning a beautiful shade of purple..on both sides of the ankle. Clearly, not a good sign. I'm hobbling around like an old man, which, I'm starting to feel..is what I'm becoming.
Make an appointment at the Orthopedist, x-rays, MRI, soft-cast and surgery is a distinct possibility. I'm told I'm lucky. A few years ago, and I'd be in a hard cast, like the paper-machete stuff. I tell the technician that a few years ago I would have gotten up off the gym floor, brushed myself off, and played the rest of the game. I don't consider myself so lucky.
I've noticed the change. Knees creaky and popping. Snapping in my neck. Achy shoulder here and there. I go to the gym 6 times a week. Thank god I'm in shape, otherwise I wouldn't be so out of shape.
Age has a funny way of sneaking up on you. How sexy am I gonna be when I meet my next Craigslist killer limping like a Florida Grandpa with a ski boot on? How irresistible is that?
I am lucky for one thing: Thank god I didn't break a hip!