There are a few things I do every day, and most of them pertain to keeping me alive and healthy: eat, bathe, drink water, take my prescribed medications, and sleep. Lately I’ve been enjoying journaling every morning while I drink my first cup of coffee. For the past two years I’ve done something, no matter how small, nearly every day to rehab my right knee.
Other than that, my daily activities vary, even my true passions and beloved hobbies.
I don’t mean physically, although after having two knee surgeries and gaining weight as I recovered from anorexia, that’s partially true (in a good way). I mean my determination, drive, and hunger seem muted.
I miss doggedly pursuing a goal. I miss the hunger of seeing something on the horizon and working until I reach it. I feel like my brain has been on pause for the last two years.
A few weeks ago I was telling a friend about my weekend, which included my partner and I walking from our urban condo down the road to a fun little pub (and adjacent taco truck).
“I wish I lived close enough to walk places,” she said wistfully. She lives in a nice-sized home with a pool in the suburbs.
Lately I’ve been wishing I lived in a big house with a pool in the suburbs. I dream of big houses almost every night and wake up feeling disappointed.
Several months ago a friend remarked on Facebook that her daughter desperately wished they lived near a Target and Home Goods. They live in our rural west Texas hometown. I live within a mile of Target and Home Goods and would love to move back to a small rural town. Every time I drive to the Texas Hill Country to visit my parents I threaten to leave the metropolitan area where I live and move to one of the little towns along the way. (Ideally to a big house with a pool.)
I know successful authors and content creators who speak longingly of health insurance and retirement, which I get with my corporate job. Meanwhile I dream of being a successful full-time writer.
You see where I’m going with this?
There’s nothing wrong with having aspirations, but you also have to make sure you don’t get into the trap of never being satisfied, of thinking the grass is always greener.
During my Great 2021 Depression, I hated everything about my life: my job, my home, my “writing career.” The only things that remained steady were my close relationships. Therapy helped, but so did getting back into taekwondo. It gets me out of my house and out of my head. I’ve also cut WAY down on my social media time.
I don’t have a long-term solution to that nagging feeling of FOMO or dissatisfaction, but a hobby certainly helps, and for me, I can count on taekwondo.
And tonight, my partner and I are going to enjoy the HOA-cared-for pool at my paid-off condo and walk to a restaurant. Sounds like a good time to me.
One of the many things the 2020 pandemic disrupted was our ability to exercise–gyms shut down, we were stuck at home, people faced financial hardships, and people dealt with anxiety and depression that inhibited their ability to keep up a regular exercise routine.
Here at Little Black Belt, we believe fitness should be a priority and, with the right methods, exercise can empower other areas of life. Using martial arts, yoga, and other physical activities, you can introduce fun workouts into your and your family’s routine.
Enjoy this month’s article from Martial Journal! After taking a year and a half off to recover from two knee surgeries, I’m back in taekwondo and feeling great. Returning to your sport and avoiding re-injury takes some thought and planning that is well worth the time and effort. Click the link to read my tips on returning to your sport, and of course, consult with your healthcare providers.
I’m still calling walking stance “broken knee stance.”
There sure are a lot of outside-to-inside blocks in Taeguk forms.
When I joined my new dojang at the end of 2018 I began learning Taeguk forms. I’d learned the Palgwe style in my other dojang, and since I can’t remember which forms I learned as a child (other than the universal kibon), I’ll claim Palgwe as my foundational set.
July 24, 2022, was the two year “an-knee-versary” (yes, I’m going to keep using that word) of my ACL reconstruction surgery.
I had a great weekend using my reconstructed and rehabbed knee. My partner and I swam in our pool Friday, Saturday, and Sunday. On Saturday after my first post-op Body Combat class, we walked about half a mile to a local pub to play pool, have drinks, and eat delicious street tacos, and we did strength training on Sunday before our afternoon swim. Unlike this time last summer, I was not recovering from another arthroscopy. I haven’t reached 100% flexion and extension, but I’m so much closer than I was a year ago.
Despite the current state of the world, I’m feeling more relaxed and optimistic about my future than I have in a long time.
This time last year I wrote a post about “feeling unstuck when there’s no end in sight.” I’d made a lot of progress with my knee, but, progress was still difficult, slow, and at times felt as if it were moving backward.
My life felt like that too.
I had plenty of moments of feeling pretty bad, but overall I did take the advice I shared in last year’s article. I learned to be patient with my frustration and not get caught in an emotional spiral. I worked on what I could control. I very slowly let go of the need for everything to be perfect and “right.”
The most helpful and yet most infuriating factor: time. I just had to keep doing what I could do to stay sane and get more physically fit and let things work out in time. The deus ex machina I prayed for never came other than a big change at work, and even then, that has required several months of learning and adjusting.
My old therapist Ramona, who is mentioned in my memoir, used to say, “One day at a time…It. Will All. Work. Out.”
So, how to get unstuck? Go back to last year’s article and read the tips. Do what you can, give yourself grace when you can’t, and be patient.
These pictures were taken about two years and five months apart. I am smiling in both and seem to have gotten my hair to cooperate.
The first photo was taken by a professional photographer as part of a photo shoot package to use for my upcoming book promotion. The second was taken by my partner after we had a delicious dinner to celebrate my upcoming birthday. One photo was taken pre-knee injury, pre-mental breakdown, and pre-weight gain.
Guess which one shows the happier, more authentic me?
Two weeks ago I saw my orthopedic surgeon for a six-month check up. We wanted to see my progress after I’d returned to taekwondo training, took up strength training (not the first time in my life, but the first time since my injury), and continued deep tissue massage treatment from a chiropractor. The possibility of a third surgery to remove additional scar tissue still hung in the balance.
He was so happy with my progress he shook my hand and all but released me from care unless I just wanted to visit the office again.
The following week the counselor I’d been seeing shared she was leaving the practice and wondered if I needed to continue sessions with another counselor. We’d gotten down from sessions once a week to once a month, and I admitted to feeling much better overall about my personal and professional woes. I still have lingering depression sometimes, but I am much better at recognizing and addressing it.
We decided to end my therapy knowing I could always come back if I needed help again.
Today I saw my chiropractor for more torment–I mean treatment, and he reduced our visit cadence from every two weeks to once a month.
In that post I wondered if the “down for maintenance time” was necessary for rest and renewal. I spent so much money on healthcare last year that I was able to get a tax break. Was it worth it?
Short answer–yes.
Nearly a year after I wrote that post I have to appreciate how far I’ve come: I DON’T need another scar tissue surgery and am finally seeing more movement with knee extension and flexion–scar tissue build up has been the bane of my existence since ACL reconstruction in July 2020. I don’t hate my job or my life any more, and when I do feel down I have better ways of coping. I’m NOT starving myself any more and pretty much kicked the habits of a thirty-year-old eating disorder.
Life is good. I’m doing well and am able to fully enjoy being back in taekwondo. Third dan test, here I come.
Taekwondo has been accused of being disjointed–poomsae here, breaking there, gyrogi over there. Taekwondo is meant to be studied as a comprehensive whole. It’s up to instructors to make the connections, and it’s something you can do as a student as well. Check out my article in Martial Journal on how to fill your comprehensive training toolbox.
