Monday, July 25, 2011

I Must Be Gettin' Old

Just came back from 'my orthopaedic surgeon' with an elbow full of cortisone.  The anaesthetic has worn off and the bastard is sore as a, well, shiiiiiitt!  Ouch!

You see, I seem to be getting old(er) - 39 years of age (40 in October) and at the moment my sciatica is drving me insane, my knee feels like it could collapse at the drop of a hat, and my right elbow has a neat little swarm of fragments floating around inside the thing that up until about an hour ago were making me feel like freakin' Methusela, but now makes me almost want to chop the thing off from the throbbing-ness of it all.  And not in a good way.  The thobbing-ness, I mean.  Anyway.

Most it, I guess, has to do with the fact that I have been studying and practising karate the last 13 years and it seems to be catch me up.  But you gotta do something, right?  It keeps me off the streets.  Eh.

When I was a wee tacker I played a lot of basketball.  Like, a lot.  Always rolled my ankles, always found new and improved methods of taping them, so that I could play on through the injury.  Coz if you can't play you don't get picked in good teams and you don't keep your spot on the good team once you're there.  You know how it is.  Then after basketball I found music.  Rock and roll, or something.  That was my sport for 20 years.  Gigging, getting drunk and high, and totally thrashing the fuck out of my body.  Don't get me wrong, I wasn't getting drunk and high all the time, but I was young and having fun and living and learning a little.  But generally playing it pretty safe.  Look at me, I'm raving.  ANYWAY.  I found karate.  Wado Kokusai Karate-do Renmei, to be precise.  Got it like others get religion.  And I have been plugging away ever since.  And my body is sore and tired and my sciatica is...  We've been there.

Look, the trick is to keep moving.  Regardless of your poison.


  1. My poison was dance, followed in my forties by years teaching aerobics, followed by years of distance fitness walking. Didn't know I had one leg a bit longer than the other and all that exercise was generating a time bomb that would go off at 58. The docs' answer? Aggregated and boiled down, it amounts to, "Take a ton of these pills that will wreck your liver and kidneys and keep you dopey, keep your scheduled appointments religiously, and keep that exercise level up."

    Does that make sense to you? Me, neither. I smell what you're stepping in, bro.

  2. You still look in pretty peak condition, though, Nance. But I know how this can be deceiving. I once saw an interview with an Australian Rules footballer who was retiring at age 32. The interviewer said "Why are you retiring? You still look pretty fit." The footballer replied, "Because every day I wake up and I can barely move because of herniated discs, I have arthritis in my knees and ankles and shoulders, bones in my ankle have been fused, I need two reconstructive procedures and I can't run in the playground with my children." 'Fitness' and a healthy look are totally different things...