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Curiosity got the better of me, one evening, as I took Lucky on a walk for the first time since my motorcycle collision. It had been about a month, since my operations to mend my broken leg and to pin my ankle back together. I had been walking around with a therapeutic boot for about two weeks, and gently walking around my house while wearing service boots (8 inches high, snugly laced). Several friends had warned me against trying to do too much, too quickly, while convalescing at home after the surgeries. There were tales of snapped screws, tweaked backs (from overly compensatory movement strategies), etc. I had to toe the line between slowly getting my life back, and the specter of making my injuries worse, and having to spend even more time hobbling around my house and my classroom.
I had decided that I couldn’t endure any more time at home. I promised the specialist/surgeon that I would not teach my Physical Education classes (x2), and that I would wear my therapeutic boot while I was at work. I also promised that I would elevate my foot as much as possible, while at work and at home. This was, theoretically, a simple task. However I’m not one of those classroom teachers who sits around and has the students come to me for assistance. My classes (x3) were quite understanding, but I still tried to move around the classroom.
I was still lifting weights at home. Mostly dumbbell and kettle bell movements. I was able to stand and brace one arm on a chair, while executing the kettle bell bent-over rows. I wasn’t quite ready for the snatches, cleans, and other power movements. I was also able to perform most of the calisthenics and a few of the Jiu Jitsu and Judo drills (mostly supine, core-related things; no Judo falls or lunges quite yet).
Lucky and I had walked for about a quarter mile, when I wondered if I could break out into a light jog. I felt no strain on the injured leg. I was wearing my service boots and wasn’t limping, or compensating for that leg in any way. I was sweating quite a bit and felt quite good, that night. I decided to see if my leg could handle a light jog. I gingerly broke into a jog. I got winded at the 100 yard mark, but kept going for another 300 yards. I stopped, even though I still felt great, because I didn’t want to push my luck any more.
I briskly walked with Lucky for another half mile, and then tried to perform another light jog. All went well for another 200 yards. Again, giddy with excitement, I backed off of the jog, and reverted to my brisk walk. Lucky and I arrived at my driveway. I was sweating profusely, and felt great. I was thankful that my leg held out, and perplexed at how quickly I had gotten out of cardio-vascular shape. I stretched out on my driveway, and made my way back into my house. I got out of my wet clothes and showered up. To this day, I still thankfully marvel at the fact that I’m able to take a shower (something which was impossible for me to do for about two months), to use the restroom –without having to account form my crutches-, and to stand long enough to prepare my family’s meals. I eagerly anticipated the days when I could –once again- go for a run with my dog. I was almost beside myself with excitement, because tonight, I got a step closer to this dream.