Rehabilitation - Week 1

I started feeling significantly better approximately one week after the collarbone break. Though I cannot lift my bad arm over my shoulder, I am better able to extend the arm when it isn’t in a sling. Simple movements such as standing up and sitting down no longer hurt. Coughs and sneezes no longer send shockwaves of pain shooting through the shoulder and neck.

The key to recovery from injury is simple in summary and complex in execution: rest and sleep as much as humanly possible. I say that it’s complex in execution because adults have obligations. There’s a job to pay the bills, dishes to wash, clothes to launder, and errands to run. This is hustle culture, after all. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead” is the declaration of the productive. And yet obligations are typically hinged to stress. The body treats stress like it would any physical trauma. Therefore each stressor is a detractor from recovery.

I have to allow life to slow down a little. In order to heal the bone, I have to prioritize myself and my happiness.

Yesterday, meanwhile, I had a Zoom call with my upcoming marathon coach. I ultimately decided to team up with a coach because I have no running background and I’m attempting to cross personal uncharted territory. 26 miles is a long way to go for a swimmer who specialized in the 200 yard freestyle.

There was only one person I had in mind for coaching, and I’m happy with my choice.

Now is not a time for training. It’s a time for reposing, sleeping, and reflection. In the long run this is probably a good thing. I think we Americans overvalue work and undervalue rest. I had a long grind to the half marathons that I ran in October. The legs and feet needed a rest. With the extra rest, I also gain a few extra hours each day to appreciate the simple things.

I feel more comfortable resting at this stage in my life. My current training is a far cry from college athletics, where there’s a definitive ending to everything. Therefore, there is no rush to recovery. As a swimmer in college, I had four years to swim as fast as I could. The final times at the end of year four were final, and there would be no redos. Therefore, any significant injury could ruin everything. Worse, every vacation was equipped with the paranoia of losing a physical edge.

My timeline is stretched comfortably now. I look ahead in decades, not seasons. There is no specific time I have to hit and no deadline to hit it. I move for the sake of movement and joy. All times I strive for are arbitrary, and there is little pressure to hit them.

That in itself is reason to sleep comfortably.