Back in 1995, I had a really nasty injury, the kind that would forever stick with you. I was playing 5-a-side football with some friends, wasn't the best but I know I could hold my own. It was a beautiful day, not too hot, sufficient cloud cover to allow some testosterone-charged boys to play football on a basketball court on a warm June afternoon. Then, it happened.
The ball was up in the air and I went in for a header. I jumped and next thing I know I was lying in a heap on the concrete, pain shooting through me, mind numbed all at once. My ankle just buckled under me. It seemed from the guys that I landed awkwardly on my ankle, with my full bodyweight crushing the joint. I knew it was bad. Somehow, I managed to get back up and limped away from the game, grimacing while the rest carried on after I assured them I was gonna be OK.
I picked up my stuff, still limping heavily and somehow managed to ride my motorbike home, all 25 km. The next day, I woke up to a badly swollen ankle staring back at me. Pain was so excruciating, I couldn't walk for a few days. Strangely, I don't remember ever going to the doctor. I let it heal naturally. Bad move. It never did heal completely. For the whole month of June that ear, I did not do much, just sat at home for 2 weeks, unable to move my ankle.
For six months I couldn't run without any pain. After 8 months, I started jogging but not sprint. This cause me to miss the 1996 football season which I would have made the team had I been OK. As things were, I missed that season. I did manage to get myself in the team the following year, played all the games, winning 2, drawing 2 and losing 2. The 1997 football season ended in the last group game for us, for me, it marked the end of my sports "career". Not like there was any to begin with.
Still, that injury stuck with me and never went away. I still remember doing my 24km route march during my Basic Military Training (BMT). My ankle buckled under the weight of all those equipment at roughly the 18km mark. This happened even after wearing ankle guards and lacing up my boots as tight as possible to ensure adequate support. I din't give up and continued the march, albeit at the tail end of the column. Crossed the finish line to rapturous applause for completing the arduous journey.
After I left the Army, I scaled down a lot on physical activity, fearing for my ankle. Suffice to say while that minimised the chances of me twisting my already weak ankle, it did cause me to "expand". All that inactivity caused another problem - backaches. I have lost count of the number of times my ankle gave way. Most times I didn't even go to see the doctor and just bear the pain. I'd love to be able to play soccer, badminton, sepaktakraw and silat like I used to, fact is, I can't.
Last Saturday, I went to have a traditional massage for my back which has been in perpetual pain ever since I helped my brother move his furniture the week before that. Damn, that guy was good. Well, my back did get better though there is still some pain. Then, yesterday, I managed to sprain my ankle again. While walking down the slope at the multi-storey carpark at my home.
Should have asked him to massage my ankle then.
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