Dear Physical Therapy

Dear Physical Therapy,

I'll have you know that - when I was looking for appropriate images to post with this letter - I found a million photos of smiling trainers and patients having a good old time while they underwent you. Well - I think that's complete . . . Call it nonsense.

This patient isn't smiling. And he wasn't when I started up, either. No way. Because I really dislike you. Big-time. This is the thing: I'm playing football again these days, and it feels pretty good. I'm still not 100% in terms of cutting and all that, but I'm running close to full speed. That's good. Once again, I've dodged a missile as my knee is still pretty damn functional, and I get to play my sport of choice. I appreciate that. And I appreciate the role of you in that process.

However, this is the part that sucks. Because I know (and my doctor told me) that I should be doing you for pretty much the rest of my life. Some basic stuff, some stuff that's not so basic. For me to know that my knee is remaining in top shape and my muscles are in good condition to protect said knee, I'm supposed to be running, biking, or swimming regularly. I don't need to go into detail (see "Dear Running"), but we all know that I hate all that kind of repetitive exercise. So what's the chance that I'm doing any of that now?

Right.

But I'm also aware that I need to be doing SOMETHING to keep my knee in shape. So it's this horrible balancing act between doing real you and being confident in my knee-strength, or playing with a large amount of fire and doing nothing (but not hating 15 to 30 minutes of every day of my life). It's hard. Because, on paper, 15 - 30 minutes a day doesn't seem like a whole lot. And it isn't. But it's not like I am motivated all the time. In fact, I'm NEVER motivated to do this. I finish work and it takes all I've got to do 5 minutes of simple knee exercises. If I'm going to do those other things, I need to get dressed, make sure I haven't eaten too recently - but that I've eaten recently enough to have the energy (not to mention hydration), and then I have to go do it, then I'll need a shower when I get back, I need to eat something of substance because I'm regularly exercising . . . It just gets more complicated. And then there's that whole aspect of me hating it with every ounce of my soul (and body - to add weight to make sure that that's a lot of ounces). And here's the thing: would it even guarantee that I wouldn't re-injure my knee? Hell no. Does it make it "less likely" that I will injure it? Of course. But how hard is it for "less likely" to be a strong motivator to do something I hate?

Think about it. What if somebody told you that attaching yourself to a rack and pulling your limbs near the point of tearing ligaments for half an hour every day would make you "less likely" to get hit by a car over the course of the rest of your life? Would you do it? Of course not. That's pretty much what I'm dealing with here with you, Physical Therapy. Sure, the basic strengthening exercises are more like 10 minutes of getting punched every day to reduce the chance of losing an eye, but it's still no fun or an easy choice. Because what if I do all that and STILL lose an eye? Get hit by a car? Hurt my f-ing knee AGAIN!?

Right. Now you're starting to get it.

So, for now - I haven't really been doing anything about it. I know I should. I know. And I know that if I don't do anything and then tear up my knee, I'm going to feel like a jerk and be really mad with myself. But I also know how much I hate repetitive exercise and how there are still no guarantees. What if I use my post-school energy to do you instead of making music or drawing or writing or something like that and then end up damaging myself, anyway? Punching holes in my wall would be the least of my worries . . .

Dilemmas, eh? In the end, I still know that there's no debate. If I'm going to choose to keep playing sports, then I have to follow through with some regular you. I know. But I will never like it - and I shall continue to complain about it. Because if I ever run out of stupid little things to complain about, I'll probably come up with a much more problematic vice.

So there, Physical Therapy. I get why I should partake in you. I likely will. And soon. But I will never, EVER be your friend.

Resigned,
CVT