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The rehab

There was this lad I went to college with during a brief period of insanity where I thought I could make some kind of career of a technical persuasion. He was short, sort of awkward, missing a couple of teeth through, I think, some kind of moshing incident in a metal bar, an affliction that made him lisp slightly, and was permanently swaddled in a parka. We called him Smush. We gave him a bit of a hard time but he was a decent lad and always gave as good as he got. Anyway, during a bit of banter one day, a mate of mine turned around to him and said “shut your mouth you rehab, no tooth, lispy little bastard”. It was singly the worst insult I have ever heard flung at anyone. And best of all it bounced right off him.

Anyway I have all of my teeth, I don’t lisp, and I’m 99.99% sure of my parental legitimacy (I’m not trying to imply anything regarding the virtue of my mother but who is ever 100% really? I mean, you never know) but one thing is for certain, I am in rehab. I know I could have brought that up without reference to Smush, but I was thinking about him today while doing my rehab work.

Essentially, of all of the problems that I have from my neck to my toe (stopping at wrist, ribs, back and hip) the hip and the back seem to be of most concern. So on Monday Will took me through a series of band exercises to start to get me to engage my scapula on my right hand side. Anyone who has been in the gym since ye olden days will know that my back has always caused me some difficulty, and if you heard the pops and cracks when Will was putting pressure on it on Monday, you’ll know that I haven’t been faking.

http://www.blogger.com/img/videoplayer.swf?videoUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvp.video.google.com%2Fvideodownload%3Fversion%3D0%26secureurl%3DqAAAAOF-u9WtopylwZ9XHAqIS4SONYU1-7VkHS-ZmvJiIjbbRaL2VjWRYKQiY9QipbYbRKHYJ0NrDk5nvYRu8o3JJUjjegyGG8m9p61-NKx-iLdRvfABP-iz4N3ZEuXEGakHx79ibDq46Rwhp32nPuq-V8ay_bR33fU5Jo0TWSYLpWU0Z23QkAYhx1Xo-Beqx-w3_ZfePRxkS7dzITm8EhbH5DDTe_ao-49Qnanfkm9sCXaP%26sigh%3DfhZYRPRfaxNsudWY7TWvUhEIcWY%26begin%3D0%26len%3D86400000%26docid%3D0&nogvlm=1&thumbnailUrl=http%3A%2F%2Fvideo.google.com%2FThumbnailServer2%3Fapp%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D9efc7f1a431cf2e2%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw320%26sigh%3DPXV6Xd_UJZVQVafUPd2obcnIEQM&messagesUrl=video.google.com%2FFlashUiStrings.xlb%3Fframe%3Dflashstrings%26hl%3Den
A little rehab work

So the things I have to do are boooooorrrrinnngggg. I was hoping to be swinging kettlebells this morning but instead I was pulling bands and other stuff. I’m not sure if any of it is curable, but I hope it is because I’d like to continue being an athlete for a little while longer… please? Much as I occasionally joke that I’m looking forward to getting old and fat and just being a coach, I’m not really. To satisfy my desire to work hard, I got on the rower to do some heavy pulling after the rehab, and after just 4 minutes I got a phone call from my estate agent to say the people buying my house had pulled out. So that knocked the wind out of my sails and now I’m eating biscuits and drinking coffee instead.

Wanna by a house anyone? Anyone?

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Discussion

One thought on “The rehab

  1. Good work. We’ll get you all sorted out this weekend. We’ll give you your program for you to do every day and I’ll start knocking you back into shape.

    Posted by Will Heffernan | November 19, 2008, 1:12 pm

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