COPING WITH PHYSICAL INJURY...'CHARLIE MIKE'

Pablo Picasso self-portrait

"Charlie Mike" is an expression I learned in the U.S. Army, which simply means "continue mission." However, it is also an answer to things that are important during times of decision. For example, if someone were to say to themselves, 'It's too cold out to go running this morning, I don't want to do it.' Then, there is this little voice in the back of your head that yells to get the heck out of bed and stop sniveling; that is Charlie Mike.

Any athlete or physical fitness enthusiast knows about determination through adversity -- all kinds of adversity. However, though Charlie Mike is tough to apply to healthy athletes at all times, it is even harder to apply to injured athletes or physically active people recovering from injury. Sure, all of us should do what we have to do, whether that is physical conditioning or in recovery. Recovery can be very hard, though, depending upon the injury. And, there are times when it takes a real kick in someone's ass to get them on track. Unfortunately, only the individual concerned can provide that kick in the ass, for the most part.

When I was a paratrooper in the U.S. Army, I was in supremely good physical condition, and after the Army I pursued a physically active lifestyle that included a reasonable amount of conditioning. I had been injured on multiple occasions while I was in the service but nothing was really manifesting as permanent. Specifically, I had injured my shoulder and knees, as well as my head. But, then one day -- those bad knees raised their ugly head.

I was running along Martin Luther King Boulevard in Tampa, Florida in a one-mile run (which I did a few times a week) and, while running across an overpass, my left knee just went out like it had been hit by a shotgun blast. I had no idea what happened. I was shocked, confused and scared -- all at once. I reasoned, 'This must be a mistake.' So, I tried to get up...and that left knee was not going to walk: period.

My house was about a half-mile away, not too far away from the stadium where the Buccaneers play. Consequently, I limped home slowly, my left leg as useless as a dead piece of wood. It was excruciating. And, my right knee was barking like mad compensating for the left one. All of a sudden, my life went from another nice jog on a sunny day to 'What the Hell is happening!?'

Eventually I got home, of course. I called out from work and went to the Tampa Veteran's Administration hospital there in town and some Doc said my knees (both of them) were over-used. I said they couldn't be, I had a nice, reasonable schedule of fitness but nothing crazy. Well, my days giving 110-percent to my Uncle Sam had come back home to roost.

Now came the real issue in recovery: Beyond giving my knees "a rest," as the Doc said, how was I going to be able to trust my knees again not to let me down out there on the road while running or jogging? As a soldier, and before I entered the Army when I was an athlete, I had come to take my knees for granted -- pushing them to do whatever they had to do. Now, though, things were different.

Someone who is healthy and whose parts all work can sometimes feel unbeatable; I did. But, injury creates doubt in the mind of someone with their closest friend -- they're body. A body part gone 'rogue,' as I saw it, was no better than a cheating spouse or a door-to-door used vacuum cleaner salesman. I couldn't trust either the cheating spouse or the salesman as far as I could throw them, so now the same could be said of my knee. Without that trust, how the heck was I going to run on it?

The way the story goes, I never did trust it again and I never ran on the thing. Eventually, my left shoulder injury made itself large and in-charge and I, similarly, stopped trusting it and gave into the injury. The knees giving way happened just a few years after the military, in my late 20s. The shoulder made itself apparent again in my late 30s. Only now, at almost 50, have I decided to deal with these once and for all, up to and including surgery.

I was frightened. I was scared of my own body. I felt like it betrayed me and couldn't be trusted anymore. It had let me down. And, then I let these let-downs become a part of my depression and then I was off to the races: full-time, all-the-time self-pity. I wasn't shy about telling anyone how miserable I was about being all gimpy. I reckon I enjoyed doing that a lot, because I said the same stuff for almost 10 years. Someone can shovel a lot of BS over a decade, and I did.

What I did was allow my injuries to control me. I took that ride to the illogical conclusion of having to give up on my physicality (and that sure as hell doesn't look good in a mirror, folks). It was not a physical obstacle that took me out of this game, it was a mental one -- a psychological one.

In my day-to-day life, people who know me would tell you I have big trust issues, just like a lot of people do. But, what does it say when someone does not even trust their own body not to perform, so they just stop an activity altogether. I know I am not the only one who has done that.

So where is the advice here? OK, here it is: Go to the doctor, get treated in whatever way competent medical doctors come up with, do what you are told during recovery....but then it's back to Charlie Mike and get our ass out of bed again to fight for what is yours -- your body.

No, I didn't fight for mine. I took counsel in my fears; and you know what that got me? Nothing. A size 44 waist and a body weight I do not feel comfortable sharing with the world. The price for not getting back in the saddle after an injury is becoming someone you might not have envisioned yourself to become.

I'm not saying this is an easy thing, to hop back up on the horse again. But, it is really the only thing. Of course, always clear your work-out regime with your doctor first, but at some point it comes to getting your ass going and not fretting anymore about what's going to work or not. Not everything in life is going to be easy.

I see people who have overcome horrible injuries all the time, doing well and being an example of what can happen if hard work is combined with determination. Sadly, I was not among those people in earlier years. Though I may not be a young buck anymore, I have decided to do as best as I can today to get back into shape. Sure, maybe I missed the train when I was a young man, but I just caught the late shuttle is all. It is never too late to try in this life until you're taking a dirt nap. And, that is the truth.

Work with medical professionals, though. Do not try to do anything alone where it involves an injury. Trying to be one's own doctor is insane: Don't do it. Go to a doctor, do what they recommend and get through whatever you have to because if you ignore your body -- well, your body won't go away but there sure as hell will be a lot more of it.

Have a happy new year everyone. All the best.