Why is it that maturing bodies act more immature in some ways?
It used to be that an injury was an injury - a good old fashioned wrenched ankle that swells up like a purple balloon for weeks and leaves no doubt that it's unplayable.
After three decades of playing basketball, now the body starts acting like a kid who doesn't want to go to school. And like a discerning parent it's quite obvious to me that it's lying. For example yesterday when I'm walking up the stairs at home, and suddenly my knee feels like someone just stretched a ligament about three times its normal length, or pricked it with a fork. Or earlier this week on the treadmill when all of a sudden, walking my customary speed, my shins start feeling as fatigued as a man near the tip of Mount Everest.
"Come on now," I scold them, "There's no reason for you to act up like that." And within minutes everything miraculously feels better. Or better than better. By the time that treadmill outing was done, I was firing away at my highest speed of the week with no trouble at all.
Like the mind, the body will try to trick us into quitting. We know better.
No comments:
Post a Comment