Recently, someone told me that I was being a big puss-cake for complaining about my injuries on Facebook. In order to avoid that happening again, I thought I’d just complain about it here. You see, I have to complain to someone and seeing as how I don’t like to complain to anyone, I’ll just do it here. If you’re here to read what I have to say, you’ve automatically waived whatever rights you thought you had to be protected from my whinging.
I’ve always been prone to certain injuries, mostly to my ankles, which are notoriously volatile. Ever since I was about six or seven years old, since the first time I twisted my ankle, I have had to be careful with my ankles. I’ve torn the ligaments perhaps a dozen times in both feet, and with every time it seems to be getting worse. I’m also getting older, which in turn means that I recuperate less fast and I deal with the injuries for a longer time.
The unflattering photo of my foot here was from two months ago, when, while defending a takedown during a Shooto class, I miss-stepped and tore the ligaments in my right foot. It was very painful and I can still hear the muffled crunch of my ankle giving way when I think about it (and subsequently have to stop myself from getting nauseous.) The pain is one thing, but the aftermath is far, far worse.
I’ve been taking it easy, training a little bit but not doing anything crazy; little wrestling, little judo, mostly ground work and stand-up. And yet, even after having had a month of little training and quite a bit of relaxation, it only takes one afternoon of heavy lifting while I help someone move their belongings to a new apartment and I’m back to square one. It’s not like I can’t jump, or draw a short sprint or, you know, do heavy lifting, but it just hurts.
