Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Feeling so very mortal ...

I really enjoy Judo, but over the last ten months I've had a string of injuries. I'm 51 and have come to realize that perhaps constant injuries are really not a way of life for me. Kind of why I quit practicing last time, now that I think about it.

This time I realized that perhaps I was making a mistake when I was out with a bad cold, went back and injured my shoulder again and thought about what I was doing. Two months with a cracked rib. Three months with a cranked elbow. Six months of various shoulder injuries. I'm actually less flexible now than when I started, thanks to the arm and shoulder exercises.

I decided that the fun was probably not worth the reduction in health. Maybe if I were younger.

When I was younger, especially when I had arm and shoulder strength, anything was possible. Bengoshi Waza was written to explain to some friends how I schooled a rather arrogant black belt, night after night, in Wichita Falls. I threw him for eighteen ippons and never got thrown for even a Yuko in return. (As you might guess, I was showing off for my wife, but he was a national level competitor and just asked for it, if you know what I mean, and kept pushing, night after night).

But having to lay off any shoulder/arm exercises for three years with the rotator cuff problems I have (resolved, it was a simple inflammation that I eventually was able to fix with just losing some weight and fixing my posture) left me facing a completely different side of Judo, being weaker and stiffer than everyone else instead of much, much stronger. The injuries and the flexibility loss have changed things too.

Will I return? Who knows, though at fifty-one, I think I need to have second thoughts, though I am finally getting some arm and shoulder strength back.

I've had a lot of feelings this past week, it has been very rough, but now I'm doing much better and at rest. Some days are iron, some days are stone -- but often some days are just glorious, with stars falling from the sky (ok, I like snow fall).


Quick note, when I was showing off for my wife, I had qualified for nationals two years before. I was an inch or so shorter than the guy, but I was thirty pounds heavier. However, my first work out coming back I wasn't even to the sparring when I realized I didn't know Judo and decided I needed to relearn it from the beginning as if I had never had a class before. It was great, I learned a lot (which shows you how much of what I did before was just strength and speed and how little I really knew. Luckily the injuries are all to muscles, none to the joints, so they aren't permanent. Anyway, thought I owed an afterwards).

Leaving Judo for now

I really enjoy Judo, but over the last ten months I've had a string of injuries. I was out with a bad cold, went back and injured myself and thought about what I was doing. Two months with a cracked rib. Three months with a cranked elbow. Six months of various shoulder injuries. I'm actually less flexible now than when I started.

I decided that the fun was probably not worth the reduction in health. Maybe if I were younger.

Friday, January 26, 2007

Memories

Memories
May be beautiful and yet
What's too painful to remember
We simply choose to forget

So it the laughter
The laughter, We'll remember
Whenever we remember
The way we were

Today is so bittersweet, so very bittersweet. So very sweet to wake up with my wife beside me (though the cat as an alarm clock is not necessarily the best way to wake up, having him bother her instead of me ... seems somehow right since he is her cat ... though I got up and fed him, and am writing this post now while she sleeps, wrapped up in my shirt and my love) .

But today is also the day that Jessica died. I know that grief endures only because love endures, and while it is bitter that the grief always remains with those who bury children, it is sweet to know that our love for our children always remains.

Until we meet again, I have memories, I have love.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

Comments on weight, Shangri-la, etc.

My weight remains stable. My SLD calories push it down, I eat a little junk food to push it up, it stays in equilibrium. I find that calcium is important, for whatever reason.

So, that has been a success, I still run up the stairs at work once a day or so just to celebrate being alive.

I still believe that most "standard" ways to lose weight are dangerous, misleading, and harmful.

I confess, I don't think about food, about the Shangril-la Diet, and about a lot of things much any more. They are just part of my life, a bland part, like breathing. I really hope that the same things will be true for more and more people. Being thin does not mean having the mandate of Heaven and is not proof of the grace of God. Being fat is not ugly and is not a sign of sin. It just is, and both states are either impossible to control by normal means or easy for some people to control with flavorless calories. But they have nothing to do with grace or sin or virtue.

Wednesday, January 17, 2007

It is my fault, but could you help me

So often in our relationships we need to say "It is my fault, but could you help me" so that people do not hear the message "I've got a problem and I'm blaming you" when we ask for their help. I learned that lesson about things I'd lost. If I just said "my gloves are lost, if you see, them, let me know" the message that was received, somehow, is "you lost my gloves."

That isn't what I wanted to communicate. But if I say "I managed to lose my gloves and haven't found them yet. If you come across them, wherever it was that I managed to leave them, let me know, I'd really appreciate it" I've given the message that
  • I know that losing my gloves is my fault; and,
  • I don't expect you to go looking for them, but if you notice them, know they are lost or misplaced, not left in some foolish place on purpose.
That is a useful way to talk and to ask for casual help. Oh, if you find something, always let the other person know "Hey, I managed to luck across where I'd lost my gloves." That way they know that they don't need to keep an eye out for you.

Sunday, January 14, 2007

A friend's comments on mortality

Ozarque has been writing about mortality:

It is easy to forget that we are all mortal, especially on a cold, sharp morning with kids on a sleepover eating waffles and sausage. But we are, and it helps to plan for life to continue. Grief and loss are hard, but there are things we can do to make the transitions more human, more survivable.

Monday, January 08, 2007

I wish you continued happiness...

Some one said that in the comments, and I really appreciated the thought.

It is what I'm feeling these days, not sure it is worth blogging about, but it is a lot more pleasant than the alternatives.