Self Harming
I used to play football a lot, on Saturdays and Sundays and then in the week.
Until last December.
I've been out of football since rupturing my ankle ligaments last December when I was doing the team a favour and playing in the goal. I wouldn't have minded if it was doing something brave or heroic, but there was nobody near me. I fell over. I did the same about 8 years ago when I fell over the ball and broke my other ankle. In fact, the only injuries I've ever had playing football have been self inflicted.
Since last December I've hardly done any exercise at all, mainly because the ankle wouldn't let me and also because I was enjoying wallowing in my own disability. I'd get off the settee, the ankle would twinge so I would sit back down, have another bar of chocolate and not feel guilty at all about it.
But I missed it, missed playing football, missed the banter, missed the niggles, missed getting stuck in, missed the after match drinks, missed falling over and injuring myself, etc. So I decided to get back in the swing and start training again.
I started off by doing a bit of running the other night, I did my stretching, started off very enthusiastically. It didn't last long. I thought the world was going to end after about 10 minutes - the ankle felt ok, but my lungs and my heart disagreed with my prognosis.
'Ooh I thought I felt a twinge there, we'd better stop' my lungs said
'Definitely, I felt something too, shouldn't we stop?' my heart agreed
'Lets make him stop' they said to each other.
So I did. And walked back home.
My ankle is the only thing that didn't ache the next day.
Until last December.
I've been out of football since rupturing my ankle ligaments last December when I was doing the team a favour and playing in the goal. I wouldn't have minded if it was doing something brave or heroic, but there was nobody near me. I fell over. I did the same about 8 years ago when I fell over the ball and broke my other ankle. In fact, the only injuries I've ever had playing football have been self inflicted.
Since last December I've hardly done any exercise at all, mainly because the ankle wouldn't let me and also because I was enjoying wallowing in my own disability. I'd get off the settee, the ankle would twinge so I would sit back down, have another bar of chocolate and not feel guilty at all about it.
But I missed it, missed playing football, missed the banter, missed the niggles, missed getting stuck in, missed the after match drinks, missed falling over and injuring myself, etc. So I decided to get back in the swing and start training again.
I started off by doing a bit of running the other night, I did my stretching, started off very enthusiastically. It didn't last long. I thought the world was going to end after about 10 minutes - the ankle felt ok, but my lungs and my heart disagreed with my prognosis.
'Ooh I thought I felt a twinge there, we'd better stop' my lungs said
'Definitely, I felt something too, shouldn't we stop?' my heart agreed
'Lets make him stop' they said to each other.
So I did. And walked back home.
My ankle is the only thing that didn't ache the next day.
