I Wouldn't Change a Thing

Sometimes I think of my injury in terms of a good breakup song like "I Wouldn't Have Missed it For the World" by Ronnie Milsap or "The Sign" by Ace of Base.  Maybe "We Are Never, Ever Getting Back Together" by Taylor Swift. 

I could keep going. 

Maybe "Forgiving You Was Easy" by Willie Nelson.  Perhaps "She's Already made Up Her Mind" by Lyle Lovett.  There are lots of good ones.  Too many good ones.

I am concerned how many I could rattle off.  And come to think of it, I haven’t even had that many breakups.

I may sound mushy but a good breakup and the songs they create can teach us a lot about ourselves.  There are some break up songs that extol a message of wishing to never have met the former mate, but many are simply sad renditions that it is over but don't regret the relationship.  Even though it is over, it is still looked upon fondly.  Those are the good songs.  The bad songs, about anger and regret, are for the bitter and angry who never learn from relationships or any other life experience.  Those are the ones who are bogged down by "baggage" and never grow.

Relationships - especially marriage, a wise person once said, are not about happiness.  They are about growing up.  And even the bad relationships, the weird ones, and the good ones at a bad time, help us grow up.  They show us what is good about us and what is not so good about us.  They give us a sense of love and care and demonstrate an interconnection between human beings.  Quite simply, we learn who we are. 

And most of life learning comes with a bit of pain and discomfort.  Moreover, we human beings don't like to learn hard lessons.  And as adults, I think, we often shy away from anything that could cause pain.  Thus we get stuck in ruts and don't grow.  To be clear, I am not suggesting to seek out pain but in order to live life to the fullest but you can't live in a bubble either.  You have to take chances.  In your life.  In your career.  In love. 

There's another good song: "Take a Chance on Me" by ABBA.

And it is not just relationships.  Many avoid risk in life.  But even with avoidance, life will eventually catch up with us.  Life hits us in the face and we don't know how to deal with it.   Someone dies.  You lose a job.  Someone gets sick.  Your body falls apart.  Such is what happened to me when I fell to the ground on that ill-fated day on April of last year.  It proved to be not such a good relationship.  It was somewhat tragic with a hint of pain.  And it took a while to get over.  There were lots of chocolate and tissues and tears and feeling like no one will ever love me again.  Kind of.  In truth, it took a while to love myself again.

This love song - relationship theme may seem like a strange analogy.  Yet I think relationships and other life events teach us and they teach us so significantly that we become so bonded to the event.  A past love or injury impresses so much upon us that you can't imagine who you would be without it.  Let me rephrase, they can teach you if you decide to learn from it.  If you choose not to be taught, then you become one of the angry ones who listen to too much Alanis Morrisette.  And then you have a bad hip and are angry, cranky, and cantankerous.  Pretty bad combination.  Sounds like a creepy neighbor with overgrown hedges.

It took a while, but over time I have come to embrace my injury.  It has become so integrated into the fabric of who I am now.  Yes, it has changed me physically but even more so emotionally and mentally.  Now, 11 months after it occurred, I can't imagine who I would be today without the injury.  There are many things I hate about the injury but it has given me way more than it has taken away.  If it has taken away anything at all.  It's not what it’s got, it is what it gives.

There we go again.  "What You Give" by Telsa.

I admit on the surface that this may sound a bit morbid and I don't suggest anyone go injure themselves in order to find inner peace or happiness.  But recovering from this injury has given me so much.  Things have real meaning for me now.  I know more than I did before.  Most importantly, I now know the real meaning of time.  I know that things in life take time; I know that 9 weeks is a long time to be on crutches.  I know that recovery can't be measured in time.  It takes whatever time it takes.  And recovery, or any other unpredictable event, always takes longer than we think it should.

And that learning has given me patience.  Not just the patience is a virtue, but true patience towards things I can't control or how I feel.  I have learned that there are things I can't control and I can't beat myself up over those things.  In turn, I think, I have become more kind.  I hope I have become more kind to others but mostly I think I have become more kind to myself.  I have become easier on myself and expect a little less where I should.  And, on the other hand, expect a little more where I should.

Being a parent is one of those places where I expect more of myself now.  I guess it took me a while to settle into my role as a parent.  It is not that I didn't enjoy being a parent but in some ways I didn't see myself as a parent.  I saw myself as I was before I had kids.  This is what I wasn’t anymore. 

And then having to live with being less of a parent physically, I came to realize that it is who I am now and it is a role, a trait, a way of self-visualization that I like, that I enjoy.  I don't like it when I can't work from home and see my oldest when he walks home from school.  I don't like it when I miss dinner with the family.  I don't like it when I don’t get to help put the kids to bed.  I don't like it when work controls my life more than my obligations as a parent.  This job as parent, I have come to understand, is my life.  It is the most important part of my life.  And I love it.

In the end, though, I think the most important lesson I have learned is that of progress.  Recovery from an injury takes consistent effort.  It takes hard work.  And the end comes when the end comes.  To me, appreciating progress is the first step in understanding that life really is a journey.  You really have never arrived.  Despite of what movies and professional sports want to tell us there is not destination.  Just progress.  Just another journey.  Another decision.  Another fork in the road.

And we need to take it.  As long as today was better than yesterday and this month is better than last, then you are okay.  You stay consistent.  You work hard.  And you never give up.  That's life.  That's what I have learned.

And as Ronnie Milsap said:

I wouldn't have missed it for the world
Wouldn't have missed loving you girl
You've made my whole life worthwhile, with your smile
I wouldn't trade one memory
Cause you mean too much to me

I wouldn't trade one thing about my injury or recovery for millions. Some memories are good and some are bad.  But now it means too much to me.  And I am better for it.

Thanks for reading...

Good Old Fashioned Hard Work

I need to share a story.  And trust me, it has to do with my recovery, eventually.  It is a story about my son.

Insert eye rolling here...

As far as parenting goes, our first born son tends to be our test subject, so sometimes we get it right with him, sometimes we get it wrong.  Heck, we get it wrong with all our kids but we have learned from our mistakes and we are certainly better parents now than we were a few years ago.  But every child presents his or her own challenges so it feels rewarding when you get it right, which doesn't happen every day.

Shortly after the first of the year, one of the other parents encouraged us to sign him up for the swim team.  His school has a K-8 swim team and he is in 1st grade.  With a little coaxing he agreed to go out for the team.  He immediately enjoyed it but was unable to swim the full 25 yards required to compete in the meets.  He was stopping 4 or 5 times to grab the wall and take a breather.  After 2 practices, we received this email from the coach:

One of the requirements we have for eligibility on the swim team is that the kids be able to swim one full length (25 yards) of the pool unassisted (without use of the wall, lane rope, bottom of the pool, or coaches help).  This is both a safety issue and a means to efficiently coach the team.  

From what we have witnessed at practices thus far, he is not able to make a full length of the pool unassisted.  So we need to make some decisions.  

I want him to have a positive experience and am willing to allow him to continue with Sunday practices if you so choose, but I cannot enter him in any meets this year.  

After seeing the email, I was a little miffed for some reason and I knew he would be too.  He likes being part of a team and is quite competitive.  We dreaded having to tell him.  So my wife and I spoke and came up with a plan.  We would get him in the pool as often as possible and get him a few private lessons to assist with stroke refinement and overall confidence in the water.  We called the coach and he was supportive of the plan.  We told him we agreed he would not be in the first meet but would we reevaluate prior to the second meet.  My son was upset but agreed to the plan as well.  He just wanted to be part of the team.

It was, in reality, a bit more dramatic than that, with him exclaiming, "You don't do that to a teammate!"

The private lessons he received were excellent and the instructor pushed him very hard.  Back and forth she pushed him.  After two lessons, several more trips to the pool with my wife and I, he swam his first 25 yards in a mock relay in the practice prior to the second meet.  I wasn't at the practice but when he came home and told me, I was more than a little excited.

And just like that he was in the second meet.  He swam the 25 free individual and relay.  Since then he has been in a second meet where he was also in the 25 backstroke.  What's even better is that he is posting top 5 times in a fields of 20 swimmers in the 25 free.  He went from not being able to swim the full length to being competitive.  After swimming his first event and swell with pride after getting 4th place, he gave us the "Discount Double Check" from the side of the pool.  My wife and I were beaming.

Quite simply what he learned is a "little" hard work goes a long way.  And that hard work pays off.

And it was good reminder for me.  At the same time he was working to participate in a swim meet, I had begun working with a personal trainer.  He corrected my form on a number of exercises and I felt weak.  I was walking around with a limp and felt weak.  I couldn't do as many repetitions as I thought I should be doing.  The hip was tilted and I didn't see much of a light at the end of the tunnel.

I remember asking the trainer about my recovery, "How long will this take?"  

He is a pretty reasonable guy so his response was, "It takes as long as it takes."

To which I responded, almost without thinking, "Okay, I am willing to do the work."

Shortly thereafter, my son complained a little about going to one of his swimming lessons because it was "hard".  And admittedly, the instructor did push him.  It was the first time as a parent I felt like I was pushing my child in the way I imagine the Williams' sisters or Todd Marinovich were pushed by their fathers.  Of course it wasn't that extreme but I worried we were pushing him a bit too much given his age.  

So I explained it in a way he might understand.  He often tells us how he wants to be Aaron Rodgers when he grows up, so I told him guys like Aaron Rodgers work harder than he does at swim practice and they do it day after day for hours.  With that rationalization, he accepted the practices and has continued to proceed.  We have backed off a bit with the lessons - he has had 3 and will probably have 1 or 2 more, because he has in my mind achieved the goal for now and should just enjoy the season from here on out.  But he will continue to get lessons throughout the year.  His younger brother is now working to swim on his own by the end of the year and he is only 4 1/2.

As for me, month 2 with the trainer began to reap what I had sowed in the 1st month.  My strength gains were quite good and just in the past week I think my gait is improving.  The hip hike isn't quite as dramatic.  The pain is a little less.  A female complimented my appearance.  And I have a renewed motivation. I want to work hard.  I want to get better.  I know I will.

I felt as if my son and I learned the same lesson.  The problem is that I am almost 38 and he is almost 7.  But I guess the lesson of hard work is one that you continuously keep learning.  And if you don't, I suppose you aren't a very productive member of society.

More importantly what I got was a new sense of pride.  I was proud of my son and our parental abilities to teach him a good lesson.  And I got a little pride in my physical abilities.  And as a former athlete, the ability to be strong and move aptly it a part of the way I see myself.  Now I know I am not broken, I am strong and getting stronger.  I am not old.  I can be better than I was before the accident.  I will come back to 100% and no one will ever know I had the accident.  

All it will take is a little (more) hard work.  It will just take as long as it takes.

Thanks for reading...