Early April I busted my knee playing beach soccer in Subic Bay (which, apart from the pain and not being able to walk for two weeks also kept me from appearing on Philippine national television, a true setback for an attention slut like myself). Three months later the knee felt completely healed and so I made my comeback. It lasted seven minutes, then I had to be carried off again.
Now I’m back to immobility and decay, slowly realising that my body does not carry the strength or respond like it did ten years ago. I’ve always looked down on 40-50 year old, slightly overweight, men (yes, always men) who make New Year’s resolutions about getting fit the coming year. Then they run half a marathon on the 3rd of January, completely unprepared, getting blisters and sprains and legs so sore they can’t be bothered to do any exercise whatsoever for six months. And now I’m one of them.
So the plan is to visit the gym.
The idea of repeatedly lifting things just to put them back in the same place doesn’t make sense to me unless it involves my pelvis and my wife. There was a time (when I was young and foolish) when I worked as a fire fighter and I got caught in the culture of a daily workout. A true, manly workout which included lots of heavy iron slabs and very little of stretching and motorically challenging exercises. Now, ten years older and wiser I prefer sports like soccer (A true, manly workout which includes lots of running and very little of stretching and motorically challenging exercises).
So the plan is I’ll do three sessions a week including lots of cardio and stretching, the probable outcome is I’ll do two sessions total and then revert to waiting until it feels good enough to play soccer again. Better bring my own stretcher to the first game.
Getting old sucks.