It has been 4 weeks since my motorcycle accident.
As of yesterday I was finally cleared by my doctor to go back to work.
All of this time away from work, and sword training and mostly staying at home healing has given me a lot of thought about life, priorities, and the way in which I live.
A few insights:
When I crashed my motorcycle for a moment there was a silence, a calm, things were happening I had no control over. I could not stop the bike from rolling, I was just hanging on and going for the ride. Some days life is like that things are happening that are out of our control and all we can do is control our responses.
As I stood up, struggling to breathe, standing on the side of the road both knees bleeding, pants torn, bike laying on its side, and overall in pain, I had some insight. I hurt, but I was alive. My son was not without his father. As much as I knew that the next little bit would hurt and suck, I could debbal with it because there is something inside me that is more than the pain, and that was still here. I did not know what the damage was, to the bike or to myself but what I did know was that I was here, the part of me that really mattered was still here, and I would live to fight another day. Sometimes life beats us up. Sometimes physically, sometimes emotionally and we have 2 options, the first is to lay down and let it win, the other is to stand up and tell the god of death, "Not today".
The ride home hurt, it hurt to breathe, I felt like I could not bend my knees without pain. The nights were testing. We have a small house, but I never felt like the bathroom was SO far away. For a few days I used a walker just so I could get there. (Thank god for upper body strength.) There were trials, and I was not sure some days that I would get past them, but I was alive, so at least there was that. Pain sucks, but death meant I would not get to experience anything else, and that makes me truly sad.
In this I found allies, people who would help me. Doctors who wanted me to heal, family who were willing to help me, and yes sometimes push me to get where I needed to go. My wife brought me food for a day or so, then it was up to me to get up and walk to the kitchen to make a plate. This was not out of spite, but rather she knew that if I sat, and let myself just sit all day and night that I was not going to get better any faster. Some days were harder than others, some days I needed a cane to get around, but she was willing to care for me by helping push me to get better. My doctor had me go to the wound care clinic. The first time I went, they cleaned my wounds by cutting off dead skin and making it all bleed but that bleeding was needed for new, good tissue to grow. It was probably as painful as the accident itself, but it helped so that pain was worth it. Sometimes you have to have allies who are not just going to let you get away with things but are there to push you, or encourage you to push yourself. This includes my physical therapy team who encouraged me to push myself so I could be back 100% sooner.
As of yesterday my knee mobility is back to 100% and I will return to work on Tuesday. I am amazed at what a relatively healthy body can do to heal itself. (I am not in the best shape, but even for being overweight I am pretty good.) The last real revelation I had was this: there is a big difference between pain and discomfort. When I started doing physical therapy, it was uncomfortable. I did not want to bend my leg that way, some staircases looked hard and I was not sure I could do it but I knew that as long as I accepted those limits, it would take me longer to get where I needed to be. In the words of Richard Bach, "Argue for your limitations, and sure enough they are yours." I am now less than a month from the accident and with the exception of some healing on my right knee, I am back. I may not be as fast yet, I may not be as strong yet, but I am back, and that feels pretty damn good.
Friday, August 31, 2018
Tuesday, August 7, 2018
Combat Con 2018 Alive
This past weekend I was in Las Vegas for my 4th Combat Con. Combat Con has a special place in my heart as it was the first event outside of my local club that I ever attended and many of my favorite people in the HEMA community come to this event.
This year I was able to ride my motorcycle down (more on that later) The ride down was warm, the weather was nice and though it took longer than driving the car, it was an awesome experience. With me was my friend, and co-instructor Jack who has done this trip several times before.
I spent evenings with some of my favorite people, took classes from some of my favorite people and even assisted in teaching a class or two. I think what stood out to me was in the classes that I took after all these years, though some of the material was new, it did not take me long to understand or pick it up. In my tournaments I made it out of pools into eliminations, and though I was frustrated at the end of my matches, a really neat thing happened.
My wife watched a match that I shared on Facebook. She normally does not watch me fight but she looked at that match. When she watched it at first, she said that she noticed how much better I had gotten over the last few years. I went back and watched a few of those and she was definitely right. My form was better, my movement was better, and though for a second I was upset about how my match went, after looking at that, I felt like I have gotten better over the years. In one way in particular this struck me. At one point in time I had many exchanges when I was not protecting myself when I attacked the opponent. In my pools of 3 matches I had 0. In my elimination match, I had 1 double. I have a long way to go, but I am proud of my progress there.
I had several fighters locally who did very well as well and I am incredibly proud of them for how they did in tournament. One of the local guys took Bronze in the advanced steel tournament, and one of our women took bronze in the women's tournament. In Salt Lake we may be 3 clubs but when we travel we are one big team and I am proud of everyone who came down, gave it their all did great. Not everyone will win everything every time, but they came down, some of them for the first time and really showed good sportsmanship and it makes me proud to call them my team.
The thing I love about Combat con is the people. Some of my favorite sword people come to this event. These people show me what it really means to be a community. There is not anyone who I have met or sparred with or taken a class with who is not willing to help you learn, or show you what they know, or help you train so that next time, you can get better.
There are clubs from all over the world, several of which are teaching historical fencing or knife work, or other things that I just do not see practiced in the community at large. I can take a class on clearing the line from a classical point of view and take that concept and use it in my fencing. Or I can take a concept taught with long sword and be shown how it applies to grappling or dagger or what have you. I am amazed at how my knowledge and comfort in these things has grown over the years and that is in large part a result of the mentor-ship, friendship and support of my peers, many of which I have met though this event.
I am alive
I rode my motorcycle down to Combat Con and it was a great experience. I have never ridden so far since learning to ride years ago so this was a very cool thing.
On the way back however as I went to stop for fuel in Cedar City, I hit the off ramp too quickly slid off the road and crashed my bike. My leathers, and helmet probably saved my life as I got some road rash on my elbows, bruised my ribs on the right side, and had to get 6 stitches in my right knee. My jeans tore, my new Chaps ripped but I walked away alive at least. My wife came down with my father in law and picked up the bike, she will need some work, but is not a total wreck. I had a very nice couple stop and take me to insta-care, then when I was discharged they let Jack and I stay at their home until my ride got there. I am broken but not dead and the last few day or so when I hurt, or have had a hard time walking (Stitches in the knee suck) I had to remind myself that I a hurting but I am not dead and that is what really matters. Parts can be replaced, I can replace the things that were messed up even if the bike had been totaled, I am alive and I am incredibly grateful for that. I am grateful that my father in law drove the 3 hours down and 3 hours back with Cindy to pick me and the bike up. I am grateful that my mother in law let me borrow her walker and cane, just so I can get around the house easier for the next few days.
I may not be sparring for a bit but I am going to spend some time making sure that my curriculum is where I want it so that in a year from now I can test and become a certified HEMAA Instructor. it has been a long time coming and I feel like it is time to do it. I may be hobbling about for a week or so, but I am alive and that is what really matters.
This year I was able to ride my motorcycle down (more on that later) The ride down was warm, the weather was nice and though it took longer than driving the car, it was an awesome experience. With me was my friend, and co-instructor Jack who has done this trip several times before.
I spent evenings with some of my favorite people, took classes from some of my favorite people and even assisted in teaching a class or two. I think what stood out to me was in the classes that I took after all these years, though some of the material was new, it did not take me long to understand or pick it up. In my tournaments I made it out of pools into eliminations, and though I was frustrated at the end of my matches, a really neat thing happened.
My wife watched a match that I shared on Facebook. She normally does not watch me fight but she looked at that match. When she watched it at first, she said that she noticed how much better I had gotten over the last few years. I went back and watched a few of those and she was definitely right. My form was better, my movement was better, and though for a second I was upset about how my match went, after looking at that, I felt like I have gotten better over the years. In one way in particular this struck me. At one point in time I had many exchanges when I was not protecting myself when I attacked the opponent. In my pools of 3 matches I had 0. In my elimination match, I had 1 double. I have a long way to go, but I am proud of my progress there.
I had several fighters locally who did very well as well and I am incredibly proud of them for how they did in tournament. One of the local guys took Bronze in the advanced steel tournament, and one of our women took bronze in the women's tournament. In Salt Lake we may be 3 clubs but when we travel we are one big team and I am proud of everyone who came down, gave it their all did great. Not everyone will win everything every time, but they came down, some of them for the first time and really showed good sportsmanship and it makes me proud to call them my team.
The thing I love about Combat con is the people. Some of my favorite sword people come to this event. These people show me what it really means to be a community. There is not anyone who I have met or sparred with or taken a class with who is not willing to help you learn, or show you what they know, or help you train so that next time, you can get better.
There are clubs from all over the world, several of which are teaching historical fencing or knife work, or other things that I just do not see practiced in the community at large. I can take a class on clearing the line from a classical point of view and take that concept and use it in my fencing. Or I can take a concept taught with long sword and be shown how it applies to grappling or dagger or what have you. I am amazed at how my knowledge and comfort in these things has grown over the years and that is in large part a result of the mentor-ship, friendship and support of my peers, many of which I have met though this event.
I am alive
I rode my motorcycle down to Combat Con and it was a great experience. I have never ridden so far since learning to ride years ago so this was a very cool thing.
On the way back however as I went to stop for fuel in Cedar City, I hit the off ramp too quickly slid off the road and crashed my bike. My leathers, and helmet probably saved my life as I got some road rash on my elbows, bruised my ribs on the right side, and had to get 6 stitches in my right knee. My jeans tore, my new Chaps ripped but I walked away alive at least. My wife came down with my father in law and picked up the bike, she will need some work, but is not a total wreck. I had a very nice couple stop and take me to insta-care, then when I was discharged they let Jack and I stay at their home until my ride got there. I am broken but not dead and the last few day or so when I hurt, or have had a hard time walking (Stitches in the knee suck) I had to remind myself that I a hurting but I am not dead and that is what really matters. Parts can be replaced, I can replace the things that were messed up even if the bike had been totaled, I am alive and I am incredibly grateful for that. I am grateful that my father in law drove the 3 hours down and 3 hours back with Cindy to pick me and the bike up. I am grateful that my mother in law let me borrow her walker and cane, just so I can get around the house easier for the next few days.
I may not be sparring for a bit but I am going to spend some time making sure that my curriculum is where I want it so that in a year from now I can test and become a certified HEMAA Instructor. it has been a long time coming and I feel like it is time to do it. I may be hobbling about for a week or so, but I am alive and that is what really matters.
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