Day 3: Hopeless Jock

Somewhere in a box in my mom's basement, there are pictures of two-year-old me in a baseball cap with a ball in one hand and a glove on the other sitting on the back steps. I loved my hat. Here I am wearing it while hanging out with my cousin Kevin. I quickly fell in love with playing ball too.


By the time I was eight years old, I played volleyball, basketball and softball. My good fortune allowed me to play two of those three sports all the way through college and for many years after.


But just over twelve years ago, I was in a car accident that changed my life. I walked away but soon after began experiencing pain. Eight months after that accident, on my drive to work, I sneezed and triggered the implosion of a disc in my lower back. Instantly, I was paralyzed on my lower half. Every muscle from my waist to my toes contracted in a panic and four hours later, as I laid in the emergency room, the damage was not only done but some of it was irreversible.


Doctors performed emergency back surgery and, for weeks, I laid on the couch watching the Food Network and MTV. In the following months, I regained some sensation in the lower half of my body but my left leg never recovered. The muscle atrophied and I lost the use of most of my left foot.


For years, I stopped trying to build my strength back up and get back to normal. But since I've been working toward becoming the best me I can before I turn 40, I've been testing my limits again and... I've failed many times.  Most recently, I failed a zumba. It actually brought me to tears. It wasn't about the zumba. I was sad that things just aren't like they used to be. And they never will be.


My God, time flies. It seems like yesterday I was this young, athletic jock, hopelessly addicted to all things sports. Now (*gasp*) I'm chasing down 40 and just doing whatever this aging body will allow.