Life's Moments

Everybody reflects on the year at year's end (or maybe should).  I know I do.

I've figured out that life isn't a big picture sort of thing.  It's more like pieces that when assembled constitute the whole.

Another way of looking at it is like a painting.  It really isn't the final product as much as each individual brush stroke.  Hopefully when you step back and look at it, you see a masterpiece.

But life can't be looked at as a whole.  It's the parts.  It isn't the broad strokes.  It's a collection of small moments.

When we're in it, when we are living this life, we even have trouble looking at the big picture.  Try as we might.  We can't see how the little things add up to the whole.

We can't see how the little decisions lead us to bigger conclusions.  We can't see how important those little things are at the time they're going on.

Like the time when your teenaged daughter opened up about the meaning of life while you sat at the foot of her bed.

Any time a grandchild walked in and screamed your name. 

When you all got stuck in a downpour and were soaked to the bone and yet finally saw the humor in it and everybody got the giggles. 

A shared sunrise, where no one says a thing but each knows what the other is thinking.

A much needed hug for a broken heart.

So you take a hundred vacations and the one everybody remembers is the one where it seems everything went wrong.  But then, why do you remember that one?

A buddy and I drove to and from Colorado on a bike trip a couple of years ago.  You know what I remember about the trip out?  The obscene burrito that my buddy ate at a truck stop somewhere in New Mexico.  It was awful.   He loved it.

And the trip back?  I remember driving in the middle of the night and we're in the middle-of-nowhere Oklahoma and find a Motel 4 (that's no typo) for a few hours sleep.  You got a bed (small), a towel, and a bar of soap at Motel 4.

So looking back at 2015, what comes to my mind?  

Times with grandchildren.  Mostly time in the pool.  The Christmas Train last weekend.  Ice skating on Market Square.  Movie night.

I remember meeting a guy on a distant beach that I will probably end up doing business with.  Our initial encounter was sitting under a cabana, looking out at the ocean.  Our next encounter was in his conference room in Nashville.

I remember lots of laughing in the football coaches office at MHS.  And walking out with the team through the stands on Friday night.  Good times in the training room with the student trainers.  And Josh and Drake.  They always seemed to be in there.

Maybe there were some hiccups along the way but in the big picture, 2015 was a great year.  But good riddance 2015.  Hello 2016!

Winning Doesn't Make You a Winner (Losing doesn't make you a loser)

The Carolina Panthers are 13-0 and Cam Newton is winning hearts all across the country.

The Alcoa Tornadoes won another state championship in impressive fashion, holding the previously potent CPA to -1 yards of offense in the second half and to .7 yards per carry for the game. 

The Maryville Red Rebels came up just one game short of a perfect season, picking a bad night to have a bad night.

Same thing for the Greenback Cherokees who overcame a lot of things (coaching change, playing against private schools with lots more resources) to make it to the championship game.

Heritage's football team, under Coach Tim Hammontree, was much more competitive than in recent years.  They competed with each and every opponent, going toe-to-toe with pretty much everyone on their schedule.

William Blount came to play every night. 

All this leads up to my oft-repeated mantra that sports are life lessons.  The scoreboard doesn't tell the whole story.

I'm going to quote my friend and MHS football coach David Ellis here a bit but first, let me give you just a little background.

Every year, Coach Ellis puts an offensive line on the field that is a cohesive unit.  Fundamentally sound, his squad gets the job done.  Each and every year. 

This year that unit featured a 5'7" 190 pound right tackle (Josh Wall) and a 5'9" 175 pound center (brother Jacob Wall) alongside gargantuan guards Lakin McCall and Wes Ferguson and long and tall left tackle Harper Rose.

Not exactly your prototypical offensive line but maybe typical of MHS and Coach Ellis.  Maybe more of the type that it doesn't matter about the size of the dog in the fight as much as the fight in the dog.

Now back to that winning and losing thing.  Quoting Coach Ellis:  "Losing on the scoreboard doesn't mean you're a loser just like winning on the scoreboard doesn't make you a winner."

David Ellis is more concerned with building good young men than he is in building outstanding football players.  He wants to build good fathers, husbands, sons.

He defines football success as

1.  How good a teammate you are

2.  How good a practice player you are

3.  How coachable you are

Isn't that what makes good fathers, husbands, and sons?  If your team is your spouse or your family, isn't it important to be a good team member?  Shouldn't you do your best every day?  Doesn't it seem a good idea to listen to those that have your best interest at heart?

Coach Ellis is a pretty special guy.  He's the kind of guy that you want your son to play for (mine did).  

Nicknames

Sports are filled with great nicknames.

Air Jordan.  Magic Johnson.  The Mailman (Karl Malone).  Wilt "The Stilt" Chamberlain.  Pistol Pete Maravich. 

The Say Hey Kid (Willy Mays).  Frank Thomas is "The Big Hurt."  Shoeless Joe Jackson.  Charlie Hustle (Pete Rose).  Dizzy Dean. 

The Assassin (which wouldn't be tolerated today).  William "The Refrigerator" Perry.  Deion "Prime Time" Sanders.  Our own Reggie White who was The Minister of Defense.  "The Bus," Jerome Bettis.

When I was growing up, lots of people had nicknames.  I never really did.  Oh, a couple of guys switched the first letters in my name and came up with Bloe Jack.  I didn't like it much.  I think it was Lackie Jefler that did that.  Or maybe Wordo Gatson.

Thank goodness it didn't stick.

There seems to have always been Bubba's.  At least in this part of the country.

We don't seem to have nicknames so much any more. I can't think of many at all. 

I guess there's my biking buddy Emil who we sometimes call "The Cuban Flash" but he's not Cuban (he grew up in Puerto Rico then Miami) yet he is certainly fast on a bicycle.

My son has a nephew called Trey (he's the third to carry his name) and his own son is the second but "Deuce" doesn't seem to have stayed with him.  We are more likely to call him "Buddy" than anything else.

It seems to sort of stopped with my generation.  A lot of the people I knew growing up had nicknames.

Snake Watson.  His brother Baldy Watson who, I don't believe, is bald yet.

Jam-Up White who was legendary in baseball (which makes his nickname have some reason I think). Inky Swiney.  Red Greenway (who may have been red at some time in his life but was bald for all of mine).  Greasy Grimes, who I don't remember as being either greasy or grimy.

There was Little Bill Miller and Big Bill Miller, neither of which was big at all.

Some whose last name escapes me.  Like Frog, the janitor at the high school.  And Hambone.  There were a couple of Bulldogs.  And at least one Bones. 

I knew a Jughead.  We had a Maybelline whose name wasn't that at all.  I think it was because she wore too much makeup.

So I'm gonna suggest some new nicknames.

How about "Ice Man" for Jalen Myers  He certainly plays like it.

And "Streak" for Kelby Brock.  That's about all you see of him.

T.D. Blackmon doesn't need a nickname.  He's got one built in already.

Maybe we can start a trend here!

Shin Splints?

Shin Splints seems an odd name.   Unlike most other medical terms, no sexier/more medically accurate term has ever been created to call this malady.

I mean, sure, it happens at the shin, which seems to be a rather antique name unto itself.  For the uniformed, the shin is the front part of the lower leg.

And "splints." I've never known where that comes from.  And I pride myself on understanding word origins and that sort of thing.  No idea.

Generally speaking, Shin Splints are used to describe any persistent pain along the front part of the leg between the knee and ankle. 

Treatment has been limited and largely ineffective.  Treating the local pain with ice is the most common method but does nothing about the underlying cause of the problem.

The underlying cause of the problem?  The way the foot hits the ground.

Shin Splints are one of those things that I don't see in the clinic much.  Most people just resign themselves to the pain.  Ice and ibuprofen take the edge off so treatment usually stops there.

No, this is one of those problems that I will discover when I notice one of my athletes limping.  I'll ask them what is wrong and they will reply "Shin Splints."

Or where someone stops me and finally asks if there is anything that can be done.

Let me take a commercial interlude and say for the record that I never mind being stopped and asked my medical opinion outside of the clinic.

I get stopped lots. In the middle of the grocery store.  At a restaurant.  In the bike shop that I spend lots of time (and too much money) in. 

If you know me really well, you know that my desk at Total Rehabilitation-Cherokee is actually on a countertop between the rehab side and the fitness center.  I prefer it that way so that people can easily ask for help or my opinion on what they are doing or their injury.

I am always flattered when someone asks my opinion.  When the day comes that that stuff bothers me, I'll quit.  Go home.  Retire (there...I said it...a word I generally abhor).

When somebody comes up and asks me about the pain in their shin, I generally ask "just how flat are your feet?"

Because the two are completely related.  People with flat feet that insist on running will often get Shin Splints. 

And people with an arch but who are "pronators" get them.  And those with a really high, really rigid arch get them too.

For you see, the problem is impact forces.  The force transmitted up the leg when the foot hits the ground.  The flat foot doesn't dissipate those forces well.  Neither does the high rigid arch. 

The solution?  Fix the way the foot hits the ground.  Most often with an Over-The-Counter arch support but occasionally with custom orthotics.

And let me add that it isn't a problem that should be ignored because those same impact forces can lead to a stress fracture in the main lower leg bone (the tibia).

Why We Play Sports

When tragedies like what just happened in Paris and what happened in New York City in 2001 do happen, we question a lot of things.  I can remember after 9/11 there was debate whether sporting events should go on.

Games were cancelled. Plans were changed.  Respect was shown by those that played and those that didn't.

So among those things we question is one big one--Why do we even play sports?

It would seem that the time energy that we put into sports might be put to better use elsewhere.  The billions we spend on sports could feed the hungry and shelter the homeless everywhere.

I am of the opinion that sports are essential to our health and well-being. That we are much better off because of the games we play.  Why?

We play sports for the exercise.  You've heard me say it here before.  My kids always had to play something.  I cared less what it was than that it was something.

We know that active children become active adults.  And a huge portion of the health problems plaguing this country today are the result of inactive adults. 

Beyond that, I believe our bodies are made to move.  Our systems benefit from exercise-both mind and body.

We play sports for the competition.  For the thrill of victory.  To test ourselves against others. 

Competition, oh much maligned competition (think about t-ball games without keeping score), how important thou art.  Competition tells us more about ourselves.  It teaches us our strengths and weaknesses and lets us build better selves through that knowledge.

We play sports for the friends we make.  Maybe the best friends we will ever have.  There is something about being a part of a team that stays with us.  Working together toward a common goal is an enormous learning experience.

We play sports for the applause.  Go ahead and admit it.  The roar of the crowd or the praise of peers and parents is something we seek.  Maybe we even need it.

We play sports for those that can't.  For our parents, who maybe can't anymore.  For those that were never able to.  We play to entertain.  How else do we fill these huge stadiums?

We play sports for the beauty of movement.  We are made to run and jump and dance and move.  And yes, I would argue that we are meant to block and tackle and throw a ball through a hoop.  There is something inherently beautiful about a swing and a hit.  Or a nice throw.  Or simply running across a meadow.

Yes, we must play sports.

Martial Arts & Fitness

In 1995, I worked the national championship tournament for Tae Kwondo in Colorado Springs.  It was my second martial arts competition.  The first was a couple of years earlier when I worked the Judo competition at the Tennessee Sportsfest.

I've always had a passing interest in martial arts but have never really followed up on that interest.  I do recall that the Colorado Springs tournament gave me the opportunity to hang out with Nitro of American Gladiator fame.

Brad Hatcher of Hatcher Martial Arts became a friend many years ago, partly because of his injuries.  

Brad, who was winning international competitions when most were long-since retired from competition, has remained competitive and, yes, occasionally injured.

Which means we get to stay in touch.

His dojo/gym, which maintains a cadre of dedicated members, some of which have been there for 20 years or more, is something of a local institution.

To many folks, the first things that come to mind when they think of martial arts are fighting, mixed martial arts (MMA) competitions, or the movie Karate Kid.

MMA is hot right now due in no small part to the emergence of a female athlete, Ronda Rousey.  She is the sport's current superstar in a sport that has always been totally dominated by its male participants.

It is fierce competition and definitely all about fighting.

And in the Karate Kid movie, the end of the movie is (no spoiler alert needed surely) victory for Daniel and Mr. Miyagi.

But martial arts is not about all that at all.

I liked the movie Karate Kid.  "Wax on, wax off" became the catchphrase used to describe many tasks that had an ulterior purpose.  It was about a whole lot more than a kid finding a father figure and beating the bad guy in the end.

Daniel (from the movie) answers it all when Mr. Miyagi asks him why he is doing karate:  "So I won't have to fight."  Mr. Miyagi's answer was "Miyagi have hope for you."

That's part of it.  Self defense.  I know that Brad has taught self-defense classes for years. A lot of those are for women who might not have to be so fearful of going out alone.

I know that martial arts training is also great for self-discipline.  I've seen lots of kids that lacked discipline or even any measure of self-control get into martial arts and become model citizens.  Their behavior not only improves but so do their grades.

What you usually don't think about when you think of martial arts are the fitness benefits.  Spar with someone for two minutes and you'll know what I'm talking about.

I talk a lot about the benefits of High Intensity Interval Training (HIIT--CrossFit is one type).  Components of martial arts training are definitely HIIT.

If a typical gym isn't your thing and running, swimming, or biking seem like terminal boredom, you might check into one of the local dojo's. 

But a little advice:  It is all about the teacher.  If the emphasis is on fighting, you might want to look elsewhere.

Parent Lessons

Right outside my clinic, beside where I park my truck every day, is the most gorgeous tiny maple tree you have ever seen.    Every time I see that little tree, I pause.  Maybe it's to think about my problems.  More often, it's to reflect on my blessings.

My mom is going through some pretty serious health issues right now and time for reflection seems aplenty.  I find myself wandering to the lessons that my parents taught me.

One came to mind this week when I spilled some coffee and a kind patient offered to clean it up for me.  "Nope.  I was taught to clean up your own messes."

That got me to thinking about all those lessons. "If you did it, you fix it."

I wish Congress would figure that one out.  They should have listened to my momma.   We would have a lot fewer messes that way.

I was always taught that anything worth doing was worth doing well. 

When I was about 12, I built my own treehouse.  My dad, who couldn't help, sat at the bottom of the tree in a lawn chair and supervised.

He could tell when I didn't drive a nail all the way in, content just to beat it in crooked.  He insisted that I pull that nail out, straighten it, and do it again, this time correctly.

There are life lessons to be learned in that.

I was taught to always finish what you start.

That's a rule that a lot of parents have.  I've heard it from lots of folks.

Usually it is interpreted as a mandate that once you commit to playing on a team, you have to stick with that team until the end of the season.  I think that can be a pretty shallow way of looking at things.

I know of at least one circumstance where it just became impossible for a young athlete to continue on his team.  This young man went through summer camps and team workouts but soon after the season started decided for all the right reasons that he could no longer continue.

His situation was untenable and continuing just wasn't a good idea.  He instead focused on his other sport and did quite well there.

No, finishing what you start to me is more a commitment to self.  A commitment to excellence in all that you do. 

My own rule was that you had to play some sport (and make good grades and be happy).  It didn't matter what it was.  In my family, that wasn't an issue as my kids played everything.

Finishing what you start means staying committed to the Big Three: Exercise, Education, and Excellence. 

When I was high school, my mom would send me off to school by saying "you tell those girls at that school that you're the best looking boy in school."

I wasn't but moms need to tell those lies.