The Little Things in Life

It’s been a few weeks since I played Dutch pinball.  The break in my clavicle is healing rather nicely, so I started with a sports physiotherapist last week.  Now this is my first interaction with physiotherapy and after my under-whelming Emergency Department experience with the Dutch healthcare system, I truly didn’t know what to expect.

Firstly, the location struck me as odd.  It is located on the third floor of a well preserved building dating back to the 1800′s.  I have never been one to complain about climbing stairs, but when you have appointment with a physiotherapist you would think that an elevator would be more appropriate for the gimps who bust their legs, hip, back, or anything else that requires lower body effort.  Nope, not in Holland.  Getting up the stairs is, apparently, part of your therapy.  Is it just me, or does this seem odd?

Secondly, being “in the know” when it comes to things about the human body, I found the translation of my injury quite amusing.  Although I don’t speak Dutch, I can at least understand what is being said to some degree and I truly believe that I heard exasperation in their voices when they uttered the words “What are we going to do for this guy?”  Needless to say, that struck a vote of non-confidence in the hands of those who will guide me through my rebuilding process.  It makes me wonder what the uninformed have to deal with.

But I digress….

A plan was developed that included strengthening my scapula muscle in order to help pull my shoulder back in order to stabilise it.  This requires exercises that I am familiar with in ways I am not.  For example, the upright row which they have me doing is quite similar to the one I used to do during my “Big-Boy-in-the-gym” days.  When Richard (my guide) set it up, my first thought was “Hell, this is going to be a piece of cake.”  I even told him so as he set the weight limit on 8 kilograms (17 pounds).  I scoffed at him and very confidently stated that I can do that easily.  I was doing upright rows with 120 kilograms only weeks before the accident.  He just smirked at me, made sure my body mechanics were correct for the task, and told me to let him know when I had done three sets of fifteen.

“Oh yeah, Todd…keep your pain level no greater than a 5.” he quipped over his shoulder.

Here is the running commentary that played in my head;

Set one- “Come on, this guy is nuts.  I told him to challenge me.  How am I     going to get ready for the race if he isn’t willing to…..hey wait….what the…?

Set two- “Oh, he has sense of humour, does he?  Trying to see what I can handle.  Are the numbers on those weights correct?  Why did he set them so high?  Does he think I am made of steel or something?

Set three- “WTF is he trying to prove?  There is no way I am going to take six weeks of this.  That SOB hates me- he really does…smirking little devil child of Satan himself.

What I have learned most from this first experience is that I don’t know it all, even if I think I do.  The little weights kicked my butt and that got me to thinking; it is going to be the little things in this race that will also build up along the way and kick my butt, demoralise me, or get on my nerves.  So this has got to be training in some way, right?  This isn’t rehab anymore.  This is teaching me to see the small steps as the building blocks of the greater whole.

I am not getting bogged down in the mire of the overwhelming goal of finishing PQ anymore.  I am focusing on getting to the starting line and then dealing with the little things along the way that might derail my finishing.  Apparently I like my helping of humble pie served cold with a generous side of humility.  Check please!

Todd Phillips
quest4pq@gmail.com

This entry was posted on Tuesday, May 5th, 2009 at 10:23 am and is filed under Primal Quest, Todd Phillips. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Responses are currently closed, but you can trackback from your own site.