Bad Operation in My Mind

 Well, I had a plan to write a blog every day this week, but then I promptly let that plan fall apart last night, since I hurt my back skateboarding and ended up lying down and watching TV for the whole night. Does it still count if I blog seven times in one week? Am I fee to change the rules, or are they set in stone once I make them?

I've gotta admit that I'm pretty bummed I've hurt myself skateboarding yet again. Though I was pretty indestructible as a teenager, that's really not the case anymore. The first injury came in 2016 and since then I've consistently hurt myself almost once a year:

1. 2016: Partially torn ligament in my left ankle.
2. 2019: Partially torn ligament in my right ankle after getting hit by a car.
3. 2020: Pulled a muscle in my lower back.
4. 2020: Re-aggravated that same muscle.
5. 2021: Re-aggravated that same muscle.

The first two were accidents that weren't fully my fault, but the last three have been the result of me getting older and not keeping my body in good shape, which sucks. I was skateboarding to the market near my house and all of a sudden my back tightened up and started to hurt. I was kicking around trying ollies in a parking lot and one landing made my back do the same. I then end up having to spend a few days lying in bed to rest my back, which shoots my productivity into the ground. It sucks.

This most recent injury has made me think about if I'll be able to keep skateboarding, because even aimless fucking around seems to have a high risk for me. I guess I can commit to regular stretching and exercise, and maybe that will help, but it also sort of feels like skating is legit something I won't be able to do anymore.

To be honest, that scares me, because skateboarding is something that I consider integral to my identity. I don't want to turn into a "guy that used to skate" and my first reaction to any of the injuries is that I'll just keep dealing with them because I'm willing to keep getting hurt if I can keep skateboarding. I can't say I really feel the same as I'm bedridden now, but the thought is still in the back of my mind.

I don't know. Getting old is a trip and it really sneaks up on you. I don't want to act like I've already resigned to giving up on how I was as a young person, but what do you do when the proof starts piling up?