Training, But Not

It’s been a hell of a year. Near the end of October last year, I was ready to get back into 10th Planet Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. I told a buddy I would be there that Monday, November 1st.

Sunday, I woke up at 0200h with the worst stomach ache I have ever had. It took some Ibuprofen, a long hot shower with me laying on the bottom of the tub, and a few hours before I finally curled into a ball and passed out around 0530h. That fetal position was the least painful position to maintain.

I took Monday off work, thinking I had eaten bad chicken for dinner. Tuesday I worked, but still hurt. That evening, I went to the doctor. He promptly scheduled an MRI for me the next day. By 1230h, the other doctor was telling me to get to the emergency room for my acute appendicitis.

The surgeon removed my appendix. He told my wife he had nicked something, but I’d be okay. A few days later, I was back in the hospital with a 102.7 fever and an infection. It bled more than he expected. I spent almost a week on fluids, antibiotics and morphine. That was fun.

I finally got out and my mama died. We weren’t exactly expecting that, but I was there at her bedside, holding her hand when she passed. Then I spent the next few weeks dealing with blood settling internally, bloat, infection, and pain. I was off work for almost a month.

By February I was back in the gym lifting some and trying to regain some aerobic capacity. By June, I was ready to get back in . . . until I tweaked my darn back again.

While I have been unable to do BJJ, I have been lifting, striking and running. I’ve logged a lot of miles trail running and forging my own paths through the wildlife preserve.

Tomorrow, it’s back to the doctor to check on injuries and try to prep for getting back in class. This getting old thing sucks! But as my dad says, “It beats the alternative.”