Iron Sharpens Iron

 

I am part of a group called The ICCUS Society.  ICCUS is a group of sports physical therapists that come from around the world to meet every summer and argue for two days. Really.

It’s an iron sharpens iron thing. More on that in a bit.

All physical therapists graduate from physical therapy school with a doctoral degree, and all are considered generalists until they pursue advanced competencies. That can be in pediatrics, neurology, lymphedema, wound care, pelvic health, and others. Most of these are under the umbrella of the American Board of Physical Therapist Specialties.

There are a several avenues that a physical therapist can take to become a specialist.  For me, I became an Athletic Trainer and then a Sports Clinical Specialist (SCS). To become certified as a Sports Clinical Specialist, you must have post-graduate coursework in things like Emergency Care, years of experience working with athletes, and pass a rigorous examination.

For clarity, Athletic Trainers are a separate profession, today requiring a Masters Degree in Athletic Training.  Athletic Trainers are most often found on the sidelines of games and sporting events, but can be found in a variety of settings including clinics, schools, and industries.

There are other avenues to become a Sports Physical Therapist, most notably by completing a Sports Residency or Sports Fellowship, programs that require 1-2 years in a combined academic/athletic setting.

Back to ICCUS—there are 56 members, from around the globe.  Those members include international speakers, authors, and many that serve professional athletes and teams at the highest level. And when I say that we close the doors and argue for two days, it really is true. It can be daunting.

That’s where the iron sharpens iron comes in. Every three years, each member has to provide a presentation that is then critiqued by the whole group. To say that this group can be brutal is an understatement.  Either you know what you’re talking about or you get embarrassed in a hurry. Not everyone is up for it.

Iron sharpens iron.

That’s why you want to play the best competition. Sure, everyone likes to win, but champions want to get better.  So, you play the best.

That’s why you want coaches that will push you.  That’s how you find out how good you can be.

That’s why we keep the score in games. That’s why we crown champions. That’s why we keep won/loss records.

If you want to be the best version of yourself, regardless of the arena, you seek out the best of the best and challenge yourself to compete in that arena. 

That’s how you get to be the best.

Coaches Care

 

Most youth leagues could not function without parents that volunteer as coaches.  It’s almost rare to find a team of youngsters where the coach isn’t also a parent of one of the players.

I did it.  The first sport for my kids was T-Ball and that first year, I was determined to allow someone else to coach my kids.  It worked well—they both had really great coaches.  I still appreciate them for taking on six year old kids. 

But the need was so desperate over the next few years that I started coaching. And, before you could turn around, I was coaching everything that they did.

One year, I agreed to help coach a youth soccer team.  The head coach was “the only certified youth soccer coach” in the area.  I have no doubt that he knew a lot about the game of soccer but I have to tell you that he struggled in coaching 7 and 8 year old boys and girls.

So the next year, a friend and I decided we would take a Parks & Rec soccer team.  Go back a year and I will tell you that the first soccer game that I ever saw, I coached. If you could call it that. 

About all I knew about the game was that if we kicked it in their goal more than they kicked it in our goal, that we would win.  I also knew enough about sports to know that we didn’t need everybody to always run to the ball.  That second year, we did quite well with those basic principles.

Years ago, Charlie Finley and Tom Ware had started an AAU basketball program here called Blount Stars.  When my kids got old enough for that, I restarted their program then ran it and coached a couple of the teams for the next few years.

But that’s it.  After that, I put away my coaching hat. So, I’ve put in my time.  Been there.  Done that. And probably made every mistake in the book.

As an Athletic Trainer, I have had pleasure of being on the sidelines for literally hundreds of games that my kids and now my grandkids participate in. Keep in mind, though, that I was on the sidelines of Maryville High School football long before my son was on the team and was there for many years after he graduated.

With all that being said, I believe I can make this statement without prejudice and with a great deal of credibility--coaches will be better for an athletic career than parents.  Sound strange?

Here’s the thing—parents never want you to fail while coaches will push you to failure so you can discover what you’re capable of.  It’s really that simple.

In 45 years of doing this stuff, I can tell you that almost every coach I’ve ever encountered had the best interest of your child at heart. They my push and may coach hard, but they want the best for your kid.

And there’s something pretty special about somebody that will invest themselves in a kid that isn’t even theirs.

Be Safe

I was on my way to work recently. That’s not unusual—despite rumors to the contrary, I have not retired.  I still go in to work 5 days a week. Monday through Friday. Weekends too, from time to time.

It was quite early in the morning, which is also common for me.  I’m an early riser. I was on the road when I came around a corner, maybe a bit too fast and came upon a line of vehicles stopped at a red light.

No problem. I braked, maybe a bit too hard, but I had no trouble stopping in time.

But my mind got kicked into high gear at that point.  What if my brakes failed?  What if I had been texting at the same time?  What if I just wasn’t paying attention?

I would have plowed into that pickup truck at the back of the line. And that truck would likely have been pushed into the vehicle in front of it and so on and so on. 

Catastrophe averted because I was awake, paying attention, and not on my phone.

My daughter-in-law got T-boned a few years ago by a teenager who ran a red light, likely because she was texting with her friends.  Both drivers walked away but it could have been bad.

Statistics tell us that a huge portion of automobile accidents are due to distracted driving, and that the chief culprit there is texting while driving. (It is against the law, by the way.)  I think the statistics could be deceiving—I think the number could be higher than current estimates.

Anyway, the admonition to focus on driving when you’re behind the wheel is only part of the story today.

Oh sure, it’s the main point.  I’ve got three teenage drivers in the family, one more almost there, and a fifth not far behind.  I want them to be safe drivers. I want them to arrive alive.

It is a bit of a dark thought, but while attending a high school graduation recently, I thought about the fact that somewhere, some high school senior didn’t make it to their graduation.  They were killed in a car wreck. 

I still worry about my own children, now in their 40’s—still wanting to know when they arrive at their destination should they be making a long drive.  Always have. Always will.

The other part of the story is a simple bit of advice:  Focus on what you’re doing. Give the task at hand your full attention, whether it be your studies, your job, your sport…really anything you might be doing.

If you are true to yourself, you want to give the best of yourself at all times.  The world needs…the world deserves, your best effort.  In everything you do.

Be safe. 

Back to Basketball

 

I did a thing last week.  For the first time in 12 years, I played a game of basketball!

It seems crazy now, but I played regularly until I was 59.  I didn’t play in high school, choosing football instead.  But I kept playing whenever possible. Intramurals. Pick up games in the HPER building at UT.  Anywhere I could find a ball and a basket.

After college, I played pickup basketball wherever I could find a game.  Springbrook Park.  Sandy Springs Park. Everett Park. The Courts at the Candy Shop in Alcoa.

I played in Parks & Rec leagues back when the “over 28” league was considered the “old man’s” league. I played a few years in a church league, but that one got too rough. 

We had a standing game at noon on Tuesdays and Thursdays at Maryville College and one on Sunday evenings at Maryville High school. That one went on for decades.

In 2013, my right knee problems just got too bad. I couldn’t run, couldn’t cut. Never could jump much so that wasn’t impacted.  After going off ibuprofen for a week before a colonoscopy, I was achy for days.

So I quit playing basketball.  I could still ride my bicycle without pain so I had to be satisfied with that.

But oh, did I love playing basketball!  Loved it.  In my dreams, I never missed, made great passes, and rebounded like Dennis Rodman.  But only in my dreams.

After I quit, I missed playing dearly.  But it just wasn’t prudent.  Then, in 2019, I had my right knee replaced.  The result was life changing. It had been years since I could run—now I could run. 

During the 2019 football season, before I got my new knee, a white-hat referee made fun of how slowly I moved onto the field.  In 2020, with a new knee, I made a point to sprint past that same official on my way onto the field.

Yet, returning to basketball was never on my radar.  I often thought I might be able to play again, with the new knee and all, but never did. No real opportunities came up.  Then, a patient of mine suggested that I join this group of “older” players for a weekly game. She assured me I would be fine.

So, I showed up. And played. It wasn’t really an “older” group, but I didn’t care.  For an hour and a half I played, without coming off the court.  It was heavenly.  I couldn’t hit the broad side of a barn door but the basics of my game were still there.  And although I doubled my Aleve before bed, I didn’t really hurt that much. I do plan to go back but my work schedule often interferes. 

For years, patients with knee replacements were told that they could only do sedentary activities, like easy biking, golf, walking, maybe doubles tennis.

I’m not going to tell you that you can do anything on a replaced knee, but I know for certain that you can do more than you could before replacement.  Do the rehab and be smart about it and you can do most anything. Although I still don’t recommend jumping out of perfectly good airplanes.

Be Prepared

 

It happens. Sometimes, just when you least expect it. They don’t call them “accidents” without reason.

Just a little over 2 weeks ago, a colleague was out walking her dog. Nice evening. Weather was good. Nothing too ambitious.

Unfortunately, her dog suddenly went one way and her ankle went the other.  In a flash, she was lying on the ground with a badly broken ankle. She was alone and her dog didn’t understand what was going on.

Her training as an Athletic Trainer kicked in immediately. She knew her ankle was broken. She also knew that it was dislocated. The pain was bad but, with all that, she was still able to reach down and reduce the dislocation. In other words, she put the ankle back where it was supposed to be.

A couple of Good Samaritan strangers arrived maybe 10 minutes later, and, well, to make a long story short, she headed to the hospital where X-rays confirmed what she already knew.  

Later that evening, Orthopedic Surgeon Shane Asbury put plates and a whole bunch of screws in her ankle, holding it all together and setting the stage for a great recovery.

So, what would you do if faced with the same thing?  Would you be calm and know the proper steps to take? Maybe.

Maybe not. Several years ago, I had a patient who was a mountain biker and who had wrecked while riding alone.  He had badly broken his hip and could barely move. Unfortunately, he was in a bit of a remote area and his cell phone wouldn’t reach emergency services.

In what must have been an achingly long time, he crawled about thirty feet to where he was finally able to get a cell phone signal, so he called 911 for an ambulance. 

In most cases, that’s all you need to do—make the call and wait patiently until emergency responders arrive.  The only problem with that is that you might be hard to find.

This fellow was.  Stuck on the side of a mountain on a narrow trail, it took forever for those first responders to find him.

I was on a bike trip in Colorado a few years ago when one of the guys on the trip became severely dehydrated. There was no choice to it—we had to get him out of there.  Our only problem was that the nearest phone was 17 miles away and we were on bikes.

While a couple of us stayed with him, two more headed out to find a phone.  Fortunately, we were traveling by GPS coordinates and a back country rescue team found us easily.

So, here’s the advice for today. Ride, hike, swim—whatever—with a buddy. Know where you are. Carry your cell phone. There are phone apps that allow you to be traced. Have a plan. Anticipate the worst case scenario. 

Stay calm. Work the plan. Breathe. You’re going to be alright.

You are making a difference

 

I had a recent visit back to my hometown. I was there to celebrate the life and passing of the Mom of one of my best buddies growing up, one of the “Three Amigos.”

Growing up, we were inseparable. We were as close as brothers, without the sibling conflicts. Oh, we had rivalries, but those were all on the tennis court.

Ronnie the handsome one, Teddy the best athlete, Joe the smart one. Or so it would seem. Truth is, we all had more in common than in difference.

We are friends to this day, and although we don’t see each other often, that deep bond is always there.  You may have friends like that—you can go forever without seeing them and then, when you do, it’s like time hasn’t passed.

It’s rare when all three of us get together, but when we do, it’s special. We remember good times and bad, telling many of the same stories.  It always comes up that we were involved in a food fight in college, each of us blaming the other for starting it. Truth be known, it was probably Marty from Oak Ridge, but that was a long time ago (a REALLY long time ago) and maybe the memory is fuzzy.

I was also able to chat with one of my high school football coaches.  Coach Gary Dutton was a Loudon native that played football at Maryville College and then coached football at Maryville Junior High. He and Alcoa’s Clint Abbot remain best friends to this day.

After coaching the 1967 MJHS team, he returned to Loudon to coach football there. That ’67 team is notable because that was the team that went on to win the 1970 State Championship at Maryville High.

I played for the Loudon team that Maryville beat on the way to the state championship in 1970. Loudon had won the ’69 championship so it was definitely the game of the year for both teams, as the winner was the odds on pick for a championship.

Here’s the sidebar that makes for an interesting story—since those were the boys that Coach Dutton had coached at the junior high, we knew their names. Johnny and Joe Emert.  Tommy Beaver. Jim Allison. Gary Burchfield. There were more.

I was a linebacker/guard on the Loudon team and I made a point of calling out the Maryville players by name. You can imagine their surprise, hearing their name called out.  I guess it was a bygone era type of trash talk but it was fun. Going into the fourth quarter, we were up 28-21 but two scores by Maryville, the second coming in the last minute, won the game for the Rebels.

I’ve now lived in Maryville for 46 years and have made great friends from that ’70 MHS championship team, including Coach Ted Wilson. It’s been a blessing.

But here’s the point to all this. After that game, a broken hearted Loudon linebacker was walking off the field when Coach Dutton came up to him and put his arm around him and told him that he was proud of him.

It was almost 55 years ago and I remember it like it was yesterday. It’s hard to explain why or how, but it truly changed my life.  Thank you Coach Dutton.

Coaches, teachers, folks that interact with kids and teenagers—you can make such an incredible difference in lives with the most innocent of comments.  Never forget that.

Carry Your Own Bag

 

Remember in school when you had to write an essay on Pet Peeves?  Maybe you didn’t have to write that one. I did. I have no idea what I wrote about.

Given the era, it was probably something idealistic about saving the world or lasting peace. Or barking dogs. Who knows. It was a long time ago.

If I was to write that column today, it would probably be about helicopter parents. I definitely see my share of those.  You know that creature.  Hovers over their child. Won’t let them speak.

I see it all the time.  The parent strides boldly into the clinic with their child 10-15 feet behind, head down, maybe looking at their phone. The parent does the talking. The parent fills out the forms.

Keep in mind, that a lot of the work that I do is with teenagers. It’s been that way for a long time. I believe it’s what keeps me young (but it may be more  about giving variety to my music choices).

Here’s what I see—parents that want to do everything for their child. And it doesn’t matter how old they are, from 6-16. And, tragically, older.

I get that parents don’t want their children to be hurt. I get that parents want their children to do more, have more, be more.  Boomers benefited from that.

Parents of Boomers went through a World War, maybe even the Great Depression (my parents did). They experienced the Korean “Conflict” then the Cold War. They saw (and some experienced) poverty and racism and the War in Vietnam.

Those parents defined wanting more for their kids than they had. My Dad quit school in the 6^th grade to go to work in a factory to support his family.  My college degree meant more to him than anything in the world.

So, I do get it. But what I’m seeing today is parents that won’t let their children develop life skills.

Let me tell you what a good parent does. The good parent lets their child speak. They don’t talk over them.  They let them answer questions. They let their child fill out the forms, instead of doing it for them.

The good parent doesn’t make excuse for a bad performance. They don’t allow their child to blame somebody else. “The referees were against you.” I hear that all the time.

“The Coach is an idiot.”  I hear that one too much too. Coaches make mistakes. They’re human, after all. But with very few exceptions, in my 47+ years of working with athletes, the coaches I’ve known wanted what was best for the team and for the players.

The good parent doesn’t try and coach their kid on the ride home from a game or event.  Just the opposite. They talk about their day and what makes their child happy.

The good parent lets their child carry their own bag.  

It's OK to ask for help

 

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to ask for? It’s not food nor favors nor a date with someone that you’ve been wanting to ask out.

It’s help.  Most of us find it nearly impossible to ask for help.  It starts early. One of my grandchildren was known for saying “I want to do it mySELF!” 

It’s hard to admit that we can’t do something. Anything. We want to be self-sufficient.

But sometimes burdens can be too great.  Sometimes the task is too large. Sometimes it’s just all too much.  That’s when you need to ask for help.

It could be something simple.  Sometimes, we just need to share our burdens with someone else. Yet, we’re reluctant to do so. Sometimes we need assurances that we’re on the right track. Sometimes we just need validation.

We think asking for help might be a sign of weakness, and no one wants to be seen as weak.  We think it might be seen as a sign that we can’t take care of ourselves and everyone wants to think they can take care of themselves. 

We don’t want to be seen as vulnerable. We might think that showing vulnerability is an opening for someone to take advantage of us. Sometimes we see asking for help as losing control of our own lives.

Sometimes it’s because we have an image of ourselves, or an image that we want others to see, and we don’t want to change that.

A lot of times we simply don’t want to burden others with our problems.

Often, we fear rejection. What if they don’t want to help? What if they think it’s because I’m being lazy?

We don’t exist in a vacuum.  We can’t survive alone. We are engineered to have relationships and communities. If you go back far enough, it was once necessary for survival.

Allowing someone in, asking them for help, may help the helper.   Connecting with others, asking for help, helps to grow a sense of trust. And believe me, you will find out who your true friends are.

We can’t do everything. Some of us think we can. “I can take care of myself!” But really, we can’t.  Oh, some of us are capable of carrying far more burdens than others. The reality is, though, that everyone has a maximum capacity—everyone has a point where they just can’t handle one more thing.

If we get in the habit of asking for help just before we get to that point, our emotional health, our physical health, the health of our relationships, will all work better.

Think of it like this. You’re lifting a heavy load. It’s more than you can lift. But getting someone to help you means you can lift it. Maybe it’s still not easy—it still requires some effort—but you can do it. With help.

If you need help, ask for it. If your burdens just seem too much to carry, ask for help. Give someone the privilege of helping you.

Bent Nails

 

When I was 11, I decided that I wanted to build a treehouse. I was fascinated by them (still am). We had a tree that would sort of work so I started a project that would end up being a lesson.

My Dad was forced into early retirement because of health issues.  Back then, medical care for heart patients consisted of Coumadin and do nothing. He was not even supposed to lift his hands over his head.

We dried clothes on a clothesline (ask an old person). My Mom worked and since my Dad couldn’t reach up, it fell to me.   I started doing that at an age when I couldn’t even reach the clothesline.  I built a wooden step to be able to reach it. 

Buying building supplies for the treehouse was out of the question so the first order of business was to find materials for it.  A neighbor had replaced their front porch so I was able to salvage a bunch of boards from that.

A nearby business had replaced their shelves and had piled what they replaced out back.  I asked for it and they were glad to get it hauled off.

And nails.  My Dad didn’t believe in throwing away anything, so, he had a big bucket of bent nails.  More on that in a minute.

He made the first motorized ice cream maker anyone had ever seen out of salvaged parts.  When I was 8, he built me a go-kart out of odds and ends that he had collected. Somebody had given him a small engine that didn’t work when he got it and although it was hard to start, he got it to work. Brakes were putting your foot out.

But this treehouse wasn’t my Dad’s project—this was mine. And his medical restrictions wouldn’t let him help anyway. He would sit at the bottom of the tree in one of those old webbed lawn chairs, teaching and coaching me all along the way.

He insisted that it be done right. No shortcuts were allowed. 

Before I could start, I had to straighten a bucket of bent nails. The thought of buying new nails for this project was preposterous.  My Dad had a small anvil and with hammer in hand, I pounded out the nails for my treehouse.

If you’ve ever built anything, you know that it can be a difficult task to hammer all the nails in straight. And once a nail starts to bend, it is going to keep bending. You can either pound it in half way and bent, or you can pull it out, straighten it, and try again.

Guess which way my Dad insisted that I do it?  Yep, pull it out. Do it right.

He always insisted that I pay attention to the small things. Don’t half-way do anything. One of his favorite sayings was “if a thing is worth doing, it’s worth doing right.”

Same thing in sports. Same thing in life. If you do all the little things right, the big things get somehow easier.

Build that (tree)house well, doing it right from the first nail. That gives you a much better foundation on which to build the rest of your structure. Or your life.

If you don’t do the little things well, then everything else will be done poorly. It’s all in the small things. Straighten those nails.

Sleep better

 

My wife tells me I have already written this column before.  Maybe more than once.  After 40 years of writing in this space, I hope I can be forgiven for repeating myself.  But if the message is still important, then it surely bears repeating.

Let me explain. One night last week, I lay in bed reading. That’s my regular routine. Like many folks, I used to finish my night by checking my phone for the latest messages/weather update/game scores before setting my alarm, signing off, and calling it a night.

But not long ago I had heard that the quality of our sleep was enhanced if we stayed off of our electronic devices at bedtime. Phones, computers, television…anything like that.

I’ve always been a reader (still am). Beside my recliner you will find several books and on a stand just an arm’s reach away, several more. I love books. I’ve tried to read on my Kindle (I do have one) but that’s just not for me.

Just like a real printed newspaper, I want to hold words in my hands, whether it is newsprint or a book. Not long ago, I gathered up all the John Grisham novels I have. Being a huge fan, I had collected hardback copies of his books. I believe I have most of them.

It was amazing not only how many I had, but also how prolific John Grisham is as a writer. I tend to collect those. I find an author and want to read everything they’ve published. James Lee Burke. Ken Follett. 

On this particular night, as I lay reading, I realized something—I have been sleeping under an old-fashioned, pieced quilt my entire life. As in, since I was a baby. Hand-stitched in somebody’s home.

For many years, it was made by my grandmother. I still have quilts she made. 

Anyway, it’s time to get around to the point of all this.  One of the most under-appreciated components of sports performance is sleep. You don’t have to take my word for it—the body of knowledge about sleep quality is huge and conclusive.

A good night’s sleep is absolutely essential to consistently high performance in our athletic endeavors.  It is a foregone conclusion that quality practice is necessary. Most athletes also know of the importance of regular strength training.

A few understand how important flexibility is and a few even realize how important the nutritional component of physical performance can be. Rare is the person that understands the value of sleep. 

There isn’t a formula for how much sleep is enough. Everyone is different.  It’s just sort of safe to say that you probably aren’t getting enough. There is a lot of evidence that you should go to bed at the same time and get up at the same time. That’s hard to do.

My advice is to shoot for 8 hours a night, don’t watch television (or any kind of electronic device) in bed, and avoid things like caffeine that can interfere with the quality of your sleep.

If you’re tired in the afternoon, it is likely either sleep or nutrition. Take care of the nutrition side and if you’re still sluggish in the afternoon, turn your attention to what you can do to have a better night’s sleep.

I Wish...

 

One of my grandchildren asked me recently “what’s the craziest thing you’ve ever done?

Huh-uh. Not answering that one. There would be too much implied endorsement for similar behavior out of him. Maybe it’s safer to tell him what I wish I had done.

I wish I had played other sports. I played football from the 3^rd grade on and loved basketball but I didn’t stick with the basketball. I wish I had. I didn’t go out for the track team until I was a high school senior and that was just to do the shot put.

There weren’t a lot of options in my hometown but I didn’t take advantage of all of what we did have.

I played a lot of tennis but I wish we had appealed to the high school to start a tennis team.  We had the makings of a team, despite not having any public courts.  Ronnie McNabb, Teddy Randolph, Tony Woody, Bill Miller…we could have been pretty good.

We didn’t have a public pool either but everybody could swim. I learned in a hotel pool in Kentucky when I was probably 4. Most of us spent a lot of time at the Springbrook pool in Lenoir City and several of us took lifesaving courses there or worked as lifeguards. Different era, I guess.

I wish I had worked harder at football. I was what we called “country strong.” That comes from bales of hay and shoveling grain and working hard. My school had a weight machine and free weights but I never really took advantage of them. I built a bench press out of wood and had a weight set for it but I’m pretty sure all I had was a total of 110 pounds. Not much to be gained from that.

My wife’s uncle, Jack Nichols, was one of the greatest football players to ever come out of my high school. Jack’s work ethic was legendary. He would take off and run to the next city, then turn around and run back. He would challenge anybody to a foot race. Even those that were 80 pounds lighter than him.

I wish I had that kind of drive back then. I did find it later but it would have been cool to have discovered it in when I was young.

I wish I had applied myself better in school. Oh, I did pretty well—straight A’s throughout my school years, but it didn’t take much effort to get A’s.  I did enter the Southeastern Science Fair one time but I was in way over my head. 

I was editor of the school newspaper and did some crazy things in that role. Keep in mind that it was the end of the 60’s and Thoreau’s essay on Civil Disobedience was in my nightstand. I even got arrested (sort of) in college for protesting the damming of the Little Tennessee River. That’s another story.

Our journalism teacher in high school was a kind but naïve lady named Miss Mize. We would write, print, and distribute the school newspaper without letting her see it. That wasn’t real nice of us.

I broke my jaw one time. We had snuck into the pool at night but then we thought the police had arrived. In jumping off the top of the fence to escape, I hit my chin on my knee. Knowing what I know now, I definitely broke my jaw. I haven’t told anybody until today.

I wish I had started a business in high school. I mowed several yards and “hauled hay” for several farmers. Often, those farmers would depend on me to find a crew for them. If I had any business savvy at all, I would have charged a fee and had crews for each task.

I wish I hadn’t been so shy around girls. In junior high, I didn’t really have a girlfriend because I couldn’t talk to them. A steady girlfriend in high school helped with that but it was many years later when I had any confidence at all in talking to girls.

I wish. I wish. Yeah, buddy, I did some crazy stuff and made some mistakes that maybe I wish I hadn’t made, but it’s been a heck of a ride. Still is.

Yoga for everyone

 

I do yoga. Or “practice” yoga, if I use the proper nomenclature.  I take a class once or twice a week but incorporate a lot of the positions and moves into my daily exercise regimen. 

But let me address the elephant in the room. A lot of people object to the practice of yoga, misunderstanding the spiritual nature of yoga. If there is a spiritual side, it is connecting the mind and body. 

Yes, yoga is a part of the Hindu religion, but for millions of people around the world, yoga is simply a form of exercise. 

Amanda Hatcher is my yoga instructor.  She owns Yoga Mix on Sanderson Street. Until her retirement from teaching, I took yoga for several years from Amanda Myers and, before that, from Vanessa Ledbetter.

Yoga uses a variety of positions and postures to promote strength, flexibility, and control.  Movements are made slowly and deliberately. Yoga helps posture, balance, and body awareness. 

Breathing control is a big part of yoga practice, as is focus on controlling your body’s response to stress.  It has been shown to reduce blood pressure and control headaches.

I have to admit that there are very few men in the classes I take.  There might be one or two. Most of the people in the class are women in their 30’s and 40’s. Did I mention that I’m often not only the only man but also among the oldest in the class?

That’s OK because the true purpose of yoga practice is to improve physical health. And if you know anything about me at all, you know I’m focused on improving the physical health for both of us. 

I’m not sure why more older people don’t do yoga. It seems to me that it would be more important for older folks to do yoga than the younger folks. Maybe it’s the same reason older folks don’t hit the gym as often as young folks—it’s just outside their comfort zone. 

Maybe it’s just because they don’t understand it. But young and old, men and women, can all benefit from practicing yoga. We don’t realize what a profound connection that we have between our mind and our body, but a lot of physical ailments are when those two are disconnected.

Falls among older folks is one of the biggest health risks that they/we have.  About 27% of people that fall and break a hip will die within a year. There is no doubt that we lose what we know as “proprioception,” or joint sense, as we age and our joints degenerate. 

For that and other reasons, our balance also suffers, particularly as we age. It just makes good sense that we should do what we can to improve our balance. Yoga can do that. Maintaining core strength and flexibility also helps with that.

Athletes can also benefit from yoga.  I remember a championship football team around here several years ago that had several of its stars in a yoga class every Saturday morning.  Balance and body control are important in athletics. Yoga does that.

I’m not sure why there aren’t more men in yoga classes either. There’s nothing gender-specific about it. Gym shorts and t-shirts are fine. I once saw a guy in an airport in yoga pants but you won’t catch me in those and you definitely don’t need them to participate.

Put most simply, yoga can be a form of exercise with a wide range of health benefits. I don’t think it’s the only thing you should do, but it can be an important part of your overall health and wellbeing. 

The Sports Medicine Team

Athletic health care is pretty special in Blount County.  You won’t find the depth and breadth of services we have here in many places across the country.  You will find the quality of services found here in even fewer places.

Peggy Bratt is a familiar and beloved figure in our community’s athletic community. The Head Athletic Trainer at Alcoa High School, next week Peggy will be inducted into the Southeast Athletic Trainers Association Hall of Fame.

She is also Sports Medicine Director for Total Rehabilitation at Blount Memorial Hospital and sees patients and athletes at Total Rehabilitation’s Cherokee clinic.  Peggy is an important part of the incredible success Alcoa High has enjoyed.

Four months ago, Dr. Kyle Boden joined Knoxville Orthopedic Clinic-Maryville (formerly known as OrthoTennessee-Maryville and before that as Maryville Orthopedic Clinic).  Dr. Boden is a Knoxville native, graduating from Karns High School where he played quarterback on the football team.

He then went to Emory & Henry College where he also starred at quarterback. Medical school was at ETSU’s Quillen College of Medicine and then orthopedic residency at the University of Kentucky, where he worked with the athletic teams.  He then did a sports medicine fellowship at Case Western University where his responsibilities included working with the Cleveland Browns of the NFL. 

Soon after arriving here, he became team physician at Alcoa High School, where he joined them on their path to a 10^th straight 3A state football championship.  He is also available to athletes of all ages and at all our schools.

Dr. Boden is a Sports Orthopedist.  That’s an orthopedic surgeon that has specialized in sports medicine. Not everything he does is surgery—most of what he does is take care of athletes with orthopedic injuries that don’t need surgery, but which need the services of an orthopedic specialist.  Very few communities our size have a Sports Orthopedist serving them.

Dr. Ben England arrived just four and a half years ago, but it seems like he has been here forever.  Dr. England is a graduate of William Blount High School, where he wrestled and played soccer.  After receiving an undergraduate degree in biochemistry at UT he then attended ETSU’s Quillen College of Medicine.  After primary care residency and sports fellowship at UT, he returned to the tri-cities area where he served as the Head Team Physician at ETSU and as team physician for Elizabethton High School for the next ten years.

To our good fortune, he decided to come home, joining the staff of Blount Memorial Physicians Group and establishing his medical practice at East Tennessee Medical Group.  You can always find him on the sidelines of a high school football game on Friday night.  He also serves as a Team Physician for Maryville College.

What isn’t always apparent is that we are all part of a sports medicine team. Just like the athletes we serve, our team is only as strong as its members.  And our team is really strong. 

What most people don’t realize is just how extensive the athletic health care coverage is in our community.  Total Rehabilitation provides athletic trainers at Alcoa High, Apostolic Christian Academy, Clayton-Bradley Academy, Eagleton College & Career Academy, Greenback School, Heritage High, Maryville Christian School, Maryville High, Samuel Everett School of Innovation, Sequoyah High, and William Blount High. Total Rehabilitation athletic trainers can also be found at many middle school/junior high events, multi-school events, and community events like the Reindeer Run. Whew!!!

Total Rehabilitation at Cherokee opens their doors at 7 AM each weekday morning so that local athletes can see an athletic trainer.  This gets them seen in a timely fashion, which means that they get back on the playing field as soon as it is safe and appropriate

Dr. England and the physicians at Knoxville Orthopedic Clinic-Maryville (it’s going to take a while before that rolls off the tongue) also come in early each morning to see athletes that Total Rehabilitation athletic trainers send them.

All in all, it’s amazing what we have around here. Our community is truly blessed.  

Courage

                                 

Walt Disney said “all our dreams can come true if we have the courage to pursue them.”

I’ve written about discipline, commitment, and hope. I want to close out this series by talking about courage.

Have you seen the movie Wicked yet?  My daughter-in-law tells me that there is a bit of foreshadowing about the Cowardly Lion in this one that will be explained in Chapter 2.

The Cowardly Lion was always my favorite Wizard of Oz character. I can still mimic “I’m the king of the for-est…” For some reason, I guess I could relate to him. I also remember that, in the end, the Wizard gave him a medal for bravery but told him that he had it in him already.  That the medal just verified that.

So, what is Courage?

Courage is being afraid, but moving forward anyway.  Those friends and acquaintances that I’ve had that have been in war tell me that they were always afraid.

The horrors of war were real. Knowing that you could die at any moment, well, if it doesn’t scare you, then you must be too dumb to be afraid. From the trench warfare of World War I to the jungles of Vietnam, young men demonstrated courage beyond anything most of us can imagine. It’s terrible to think about having to worry about IED’s in a middle eastern desert.

Courage is not the absence of fear, but it is what keeps you moving against odds that might seem overwhelming. Underdogs in a sporting event?  Courage.  Give up or give it all you’ve got.

Courage might mean that at your lowest point, when the game seems lost, you keep going…keep fighting. Courage means take one more step.

I think a lot of times, that’s the best definition of courage—that you just go one more step. Keep going. Keep fighting.

Down 5-0 in a tennis match?  Win the next point. And then the one after that. Strike out? Get back up to bat and try again. Miss a shot? Take another.

I used to work with the kickers on the football team at Maryville High School. I never really tried to coach them about how to kick, but I always tried to help them with the mental side of the game.  If one of them ever missed a kick, I would find them immediately on the sidelines and tell them that the last one didn’t count.  Only the next one counted.

We have to do that. We have to put our failures behind us and move on.  How else do we get out of bed in the morning? How else do we take the field or the court again?

I find no glory in failures, but I do find lessons to be learned. Failure hurts. Or it should. But we should learn from our mistakes.  We should learn how NOT to do something. The only true failure is when you don’t take the lesson away from the failure.

Failure builds resilience and character. How we behave when we fail reveals who we truly are. What we do next reveals who we are to become. We should not fear failure.

When I was the boss, I wanted my managers to risk making mistakes. I wanted them to feel empowered to make decisions, even at the risk of being wrong. The same thing is true for our children. If we won’t allow them to make mistakes, how will they learn?

A quote that was on my wall as a teenager and is still imprinted on my heart today is as follows:  “On the fields of friendly strife are sown the seeds that on other days, on other fields will bear the fruits of victory.”

And from Kipling’s poem If—“…If you can fill the unforgiving minute with sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, yours is the earth and everything that’s in it, and—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!”

Have courage. Persevere. Take just one more step. Then another.

 

Commitment

 

I want to continue with a New Years theme for this month. I talked about discipline last week, and got a lot of feedback on that one.

This week, let’s look at commitment. We’re in the new year now, and, as predicted, gym memberships are up.  But as I wrote about last week, too often those gym memberships do not seem to translate to longevity.

I’m a big fan of gyms—all gyms. I don’t care for the push for long term gym memberships.  My opinion has always been that if you don’t want to be there, if you aren’t going to use that gym membership, then you should be allowed to move on. Back when I owned a gym, that’s the way we did it.

Still, I understand that a prepaid membership can be incentive to make use of that membership. I get that. But that just doesn’t seem to be the case.  I guess once that membership is paid, it’s easier to ignore.

But there is one irrefutable truth:  If you want to pursue good health, you must be COMMITTED to that pursuit.

The discipline thing that I wrote about last week is a necessary ingredient. I mentioned getting up at 4:30 in the morning to hit the gym or get some exercise. It takes DISCIPLINE to do that.  Week after week. Month after month. Year after year.

I’ve told this story before—but it’s been a while. My dad had his first heart attack when I was 5 years old. What that means is that my family lived the life of a heart patient family from as far back as I can remember.

My dad took Coumadin until the day he died and did everything his doctor told him.  The science is much better now (SO much better) but it was what we knew. Some of it still works. No fried foods. Lean meats. Low sodium.

What we know now that we didn’t know then is that there are good fats and bad fats, and that we need those good fats.  We thought eggs were completely off limits. We now know that eggs in moderation are a good thing. We thought all red meat was bad. We now know that lean red meet can be important. 

Because of science and cardiac research, we know so much more. There just wasn’t much science behind it back then. I used to be on the Board of Directors for the American Heart Association and the sermon we preached back then is what we thought was good medicine. Unfortunately, a lot of what we knew has proven to be wrong. High carb intake is bad. We didn’t know that.

The biggest change in cardiac science is that we now understand how profound exercise is to cardiac health. Some have argued that it is more important than the nutritional aspect.

Let me repeat that—exercise is absolutely essential to good cardiac health. You might live to be a hundred but if you don’t exercise, you are the exception.

I don’t care what you do. Just move! Sure, for bone health you need weightbearing activities. And to stay active, you need to do some strength training.

What you don’t want to do is to follow the latest trends—don’t let anybody tell you that they have the “secret” to good health. They don’t. If you just move, you will be healthier.

If you think I’m self-righteous about all that, I assure you I’m not. Living with a heart patient (my dad), made me scared to death of heart disease. I have never allowed myself to be out of shape or to eat a lot of junk, not because I’m smarter or more dedicated than anybody else, but because of fear.

Do you want to be active and healthy when you’re old? Then do today what you need to do to be THAT person one day. It starts today, regardless of how old you are. Active children become active and healthy adults.

Are you truly committed to being healthy? Then I’ll see you out there.