Good luck

The gym. A place for the wounded, the spent, the beweakened, a place without sound, a place for small talk with strangers, for hollow 'good luck's and polite smiles. Two older women chatted to me today. Made two friends! We talked about the rain, about injuries, about training and such topics. One of them said I was too young to be there. Oh, if she only knew I was a veteran in the business. She wished me good luck.

And she also told me about her grandson. He played football. He'd gotten injured. 'Injured' is really not sufficient to depict his state: both ACL and PCL ruptured, side ligament ruptured, 2 arteries ruptured. THROUGH FOOTBALL! How does that happen? Not even the doctors could tell. Your PCL you only tear in accidents e.g. involving cars or bicycles usually. If you tear it, you're pretty much going to be invalid for the rest of your life. It's not fixable (last time I checked). Not only his football career is over.

Made me think. Maybe in a disturbed way I should be glad it's not worse for me than it is. I can't relate to people in car crashes who break necks and backs and are paralysed for life. That's another level, and another forum. I might as well be glad I wasn't run over or that a meteor didn't crash on Earth today (for which I am thankful, don't get me wrong). But sports is...sports. I still have the hope of playing basketball again should I want it. Maybe. He doesn't. I'll be able to run and live a normal life - maybe.

I'll take a grateful break in this pity party for one. Namaste.

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