THANKFULLY NOT THE END
It’s not until drastic and usually swift change happens that one realises how quickly life can change. Such was the case yesterday, when skating a few easy laps with my teamates. After a week in bed with a nagging cold that finally subsided, and only one and three-quarter laps of skating, my athletic life as I knew it almost came to a screeching halt.
Suddenly, I found myself sliding on my side at the speed in which I was just skating (35kms per hour at least) into the padding that surrounds the 400m track. With time to ponder the impact, my brain uttered the thought ‘this is going to hurt’ and braced for the collision. With a seventeen and a half inch razor-sharp blade on the bottom of each foot, this is a terrifying situation to be in.
First, I smashed into the pads. Yes, it hurt, but I have certainly felt more pain when losing gnarly amounts of skin on asphalt as a cyclist. It’s when I slid along the metal grates underneath the pads that it really hurt. The burning pain of friction took over immediately, but more than anything I felt a sharp sensation in my foot.
A few people came over to make sure I was okay. Embarrassingly, I looked up to about 15 kids who were warming up for some kind of short track speed skating camp on the running track, all looking down at me with a strange mixture of humour and concern. This was not the place to lick my wounds, and I lumbered to my feet to skate over to the seating area inside the track.
That’s when that sharp pain in my foot really started to throb. I had to do a double take after looking down to the gaping hole of about one and a half inches in my inner right boot. Sitting on the bench, after removing the skate, I saw what was the culprit of pain. Not only was there a crater in the skate- there was a hole kicked into the bottom of my foot!
I sat, incredulous. How was it mechanically possible to kick oneself in the bottom of the foot with a carbon-fibre skate boot on? Somehow, I managed to do this. All I could think about was how lucky I was not to have kicked and injured a tendon- an injury that would surely have meant the end of my skating life.
All of the staff at the oval is trained in emergency first aid, and sooner than I could get that boot off one of the friendly maintenance men came over for damage control. “Sorry, kid, but you’re going to need some stitches”. Of course I didn’t believe him, but knew enough about infection to call Peter and ask for a drive to the walk-in clinic to get it cleaned out.
In my mind was a grasp of the thin line I had managed to stay on the right side of; how close I came to the imminent end of my sporting life. I know one day it will, it has to, come to an end, but oh how sad I would be ending it in this manner.
It makes me think of so many athlete friends who have dealt with injuries that most would consider career ending. I think of Kyle Shewfelt and his current struggle after such a devastating injury this summer. I cannot imagine his current struggle to heal two broken knees.
I am so, so lucky to be sitting here with the wound glued shut, a five-day course of antibiotics to stave off infection, and nice selection of movies to pass the time.
I suppose more than anything, it’s fuel to the fire of following that bliss I’ve always gone after in life; to take each day and run with the opportunities it offers.
Things can change faster than one can possibly imagine.
