Injured...

Quick update time: I've been taking Karate (technically Hapkido) lessons for the last three months.

Okay, up to date now? Good.

So today I went to my usual 6:45 PM lesson at the Team Karate Centers in Woodland Hills. I was running late, so I came in at the end of the stretching (this would prove crucial).

After a few warm-up roundhouse kicks, me and my fellow orange belts started doing some "power kick" drills with a partner. The first one was the front kick. I ripped off about ten of those without a problem. The next drill was the switch front kick, where you quickly switch your feet then kick with your off-foot.

My first kick was great. But on the second one, right after I switched my stance, someone whacked me in the back of my calf with a staff or stick or something.

I was a little irritated so I whipped around to face my attacker. No one was there.

Oh. Shit.

I took a seat on the mat. Ow. Owowowowow. First thing I thought was: Achilles tendon. I remember hearing horror stories in my football days of guys rupturing their Achilles tendons, and having it bunched up in a little ball in their heel.

I felt my Achilles. Still there. The pain was focused on the meaty part of my calf, well out of the way of my Achilles.

Speaking of pain. Yeah. It was not going away. It wasn't getting any worse, but it was kind of just this low, aching rumble. I knew I had myself a classic "bad injury."

Someone fetched some ice for me, and I sat on the mat...lamely holding the plastic bag of ice on my injured calf muscle while I tried to wrap my head around this. I've never had any kind of crippling injury before, after about 20 years of competitive sports in my youth, so this was a new thing for me. Images of emergency rooms, surgeries, pain meds, and medical bills swam through my head.

I told my Sensei that I was done for the night. He told me to take three days off and get some rest. I nodded, bid him goodnight, hobbled to my car, and threaded my way through a clogged 405 freeway.

When I got home, Google calmed me down a bit. From my good friends at Foot Education: "Calf (Gastrocnemius) muscle tears commonly occur in middle-aged recreational athletes while performing actions that require sudden changes in direction."

Recreational athlete? Yep. Middle aged. Yep. Change in direction? Uh huh. Looks like I got me a torn calf muscle. I remember when I was young and limber and invincible...ah well. Crap like this is just going to start happening to me now, I guess.

Bummer.

So, the good news is: no surgery (probably). Bad news is: crutches, pain, immobility, and a terrible inability to render parental assistance. I guess it could be worse...