They Shoot Horses, Don't They?
From a news item....
"Legendary Racehorse Barbaro Dies
Day to Day, January 29, 2007 · The racehorse Barbaro was euthanized Monday after suffering a series of complications from a leg injury incurred at the Preakness Stakes last year.
Veterinarians at the University of Pennsylvania's New Bolton Center performed surgery on the horse Saturday night in an attempt to ease the weight load on his right hind leg, which had a painful abcess.
Barbaro won the Kentucky Derby last year and was a favorite to win the Preakness before he injured his right hind leg at the outset of the race. The injury ended his racing career, but a community of support gathered around Barbaro in hopes that he might make a recovery and live out his life peacefully."
Well, I am limping again. I just finished a 3 month healing process for my left calf muscle after tearing that pretty nicely. Presently I am nursing a sore, turned ankle, and just last night, I lay on the practice mat after something went *pop* in my right knee. Sigh.
All this is not related to accidents as much as self-induced and well funded exploits in the various martial arts classes I indulge in. I have become quite accustomed to limping home and looking for the ice pack/heat pack/Ibuprofen/sympathy button, etc, and it was all taken in stride as part of the game. I love the martial arts and the journey it has been as my son and I have gone to Black Belt and beyond and done it together, training at the same studio(s). If you have a boy child, it is really special to have something you do together. My son has a good friend that goes on long fishing trips with his dad. Others go to ball games. We kick people. Same thing, really. The important part is we do it together, we share the fun of learning, compare notes, practice together, encourage each other, etc.
But this last injury had me thinking that maybe I need to throttle back a bit. At near 50 years of age (JB beat me there, but I am trying to catch him in gimpiness) I am wondering if I should re-assess my goal of another black belt ranking and work on staying in shape in a less dangerous way. Who knows? God has blessed me with good health and pretty decent ability in my training, but I may have heard the whisper of wingtips with my Guardian Angel hovering over me as I lay on the mat after the trip/fall knee pop thing. Maybe He was also whispering, “Hey, dude…just a wake up call. You are not as young as you once were.” Tell me about it.
Well, we shall see what the Doc says today. He will poke and prod and twist and ask questions like, “Does this hurt?” Typical Doctor stuff, and I am sure he will suggest I take it easier in the future.
Rats. It could be two against one, the Angel and the Doc both agreeing I need to be more careful. I am not very good at that, but I may have to learn.
In the meantime, I am well stocked on anti-inflammatories, ice, and comfy pillows. Now, if I could just find that sympathy button. “Oh, Honey?” Where did my wife go? I need someone to feel sorry for me….and I need to hide the guns. My wife used to ride and train horses. She may not be as patient as my Guardian Angel is.
"Legendary Racehorse Barbaro Dies
Day to Day, January 29, 2007 · The racehorse Barbaro was euthanized Monday after suffering a series of complications from a leg injury incurred at the Preakness Stakes last year.
Veterinarians at the University of Pennsylvania's New Bolton Center performed surgery on the horse Saturday night in an attempt to ease the weight load on his right hind leg, which had a painful abcess.
Barbaro won the Kentucky Derby last year and was a favorite to win the Preakness before he injured his right hind leg at the outset of the race. The injury ended his racing career, but a community of support gathered around Barbaro in hopes that he might make a recovery and live out his life peacefully."
Well, I am limping again. I just finished a 3 month healing process for my left calf muscle after tearing that pretty nicely. Presently I am nursing a sore, turned ankle, and just last night, I lay on the practice mat after something went *pop* in my right knee. Sigh.
All this is not related to accidents as much as self-induced and well funded exploits in the various martial arts classes I indulge in. I have become quite accustomed to limping home and looking for the ice pack/heat pack/Ibuprofen/sympathy button, etc, and it was all taken in stride as part of the game. I love the martial arts and the journey it has been as my son and I have gone to Black Belt and beyond and done it together, training at the same studio(s). If you have a boy child, it is really special to have something you do together. My son has a good friend that goes on long fishing trips with his dad. Others go to ball games. We kick people. Same thing, really. The important part is we do it together, we share the fun of learning, compare notes, practice together, encourage each other, etc.
But this last injury had me thinking that maybe I need to throttle back a bit. At near 50 years of age (JB beat me there, but I am trying to catch him in gimpiness) I am wondering if I should re-assess my goal of another black belt ranking and work on staying in shape in a less dangerous way. Who knows? God has blessed me with good health and pretty decent ability in my training, but I may have heard the whisper of wingtips with my Guardian Angel hovering over me as I lay on the mat after the trip/fall knee pop thing. Maybe He was also whispering, “Hey, dude…just a wake up call. You are not as young as you once were.” Tell me about it.
Well, we shall see what the Doc says today. He will poke and prod and twist and ask questions like, “Does this hurt?” Typical Doctor stuff, and I am sure he will suggest I take it easier in the future.
Rats. It could be two against one, the Angel and the Doc both agreeing I need to be more careful. I am not very good at that, but I may have to learn.
In the meantime, I am well stocked on anti-inflammatories, ice, and comfy pillows. Now, if I could just find that sympathy button. “Oh, Honey?” Where did my wife go? I need someone to feel sorry for me….and I need to hide the guns. My wife used to ride and train horses. She may not be as patient as my Guardian Angel is.
