I wrenched my back and I’m bad at recovery
Things I don’t do well:
This morning’s water ski run didn’t go as planned.
The water looked smooth and almost glassy up by the Pennybacker Bridge when I zipped up my life vest, yanked on my neoprene calf sleeve (to stop bruising from water spray, which is a real thing) and slipped on my slalom ski just before 7 a.m. today.
Chris hit the gas and I popped up – and almost immediately dropped the rope, thanks to a sharp jab of pain in my lower back.
I’ve been covering adventure and fitness for more than a decade, so I consider it something of a miracle that I haven’t wound up injured more often. I can count my battle wounds, a lathat scene in “Jaws” where the boat captain shows all his scars, on one hand: A broken wrist sustained while horseback riding when I was a kid, plantar fasciitis and a pulled calf muscle sustained while training for a marathon, and a weird thing that happened to the inside of my knee while researching a rope swing story a few years ago.
But I can only walk short stretches – hobbling is more like it – and am headed back to my bed with a heating pad as soon as I finish this post.
But there’s an upside to this. It reminds me how lucky I’ve been thus far to stay healthy and upright, and what a role physical activity plays in keeping me happy.