Had I written this coach log 5 days ago, it would have been far more negative.

I was pissed and I had pretty much had it. In fact, I stood at the kitchen counter (barely, but I will get into that in a minute), and threw the equivalent of a tantrum that a 6-year old would throw. It was pathetic, but I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel better after doing it.


I didn’t throw anything, and I didn’t stomp my feet or collapse to the floor—primarily because I physically couldn’t. I was using most of my upper body strength—what’s left of it, anyway—to hold myself up and in the most comfortable condition I could find. The tantrum consisted more of yelling and whining.


As if my coach logs haven’t been pathetic enough, never say to yourself that it can’t get worse because, mother fucker, it can.

I had two great workouts last week on Monday and Tuesday. Meals were going down easily and I was feeling pretty good. On Wednesday I was getting ready to meet a client that I will be training in Miami, 4 days per week, and we were going to set up everything to have our ducks in a row. I decided to use the restroom and that is when things took a turn for the worse.


I did my normal “bathroom duties”; I checked social media, my email, etc. I was just chillin’.

I went to get up and thought, “That’s weird, my lower back feels kind of tight.” When I stood up, I knew something was not right. FML.


It took everything I had to get to the bathroom counter (and it isn’t close to the toilet). I then rested on the sink, using my arms and upper body strength to take some of the pain away from my lower back. My lower back was spasming. I waited while leaning over the sink because this gave me some relief. I then took what was roughly 4-inch steps until I got to the kitchen counter. It took about 4 months to get there, give or take. My wife was watching me the entire time asking what was going on. Of course, I’m not in a great mood at this point and after being married for 30 years, I gave her the response that I thought her comment deserved, “What the hell does it look like‽” You might think that’s mean but when you’re married for 30 years, you can get away with saying some shit that you can’t when you’ve only been together for 5 years. Plus, she knew it wasn’t directed at her but rather that I was in a lot of pain.


I spent what felt like 30 minutes ranting about how every part of my body has fallen apart in the last 12 months. I don’t recall the details, but there was something said about feeling like an 80-year-old man, something about how she should buy me a walker, and that she would be better off finding a 23-year-old to go on vacation with. Oddly, she disagreed with everything except the last point. She somehow skipped over the last one, but I digress.


I then had the privilege of having to wake her up twice in the middle of the night to help me walk to the bathroom. I had to put my hands on her shoulders and walk behind her, slowly taking baby steps. She was very helpful but I swore I heard her mutter something about a vacation. * shrug *


The next day was rough but by the evening, I was beginning to loosen up just a bit. Keep in mind that I had no muscle relaxers because after being in Florida for 3 years, my dumbass has not secured a Primary Care Physician, and I have a 16-year-old daughter who found the stash of Ambien about a year ago, so I thought it would be great idea to throw all medications that weren’t being used into the trash. The thought crossed my mind to blame her for all of this but my brain was quickly rerouted back to the pain I was dealing with.


I was able to sit in a chair that night with minimal pain. It was getting up, sitting down and walking that was still rough. Fortunately, I could still get comfortable and sleep. In all of my past back injuries this was not the case. Apparently, God was feeling extra nice these couple of days.


By Saturday, I was able to get around with very little pain. I had lost roughly 3 days but was at least feeling better. By Sunday, I had little to no back pain and was feeling back to normal.


On the one hand, I am grateful that this only lasted for a short time. On the other, it was yet another calamity in a year that has seen more obstacles to my training than at any other time in my 37 years of training. At the risk of sounding like a bitch, I was pretty much psychologically wiped out. I dealt with the glute tear. I have been dealing with the knee problems. The back problem out of nowhere (though obviously indirectly related to my knee and hip) was the kicker. You can only be dealt so much shit and eventually you have had enough.


While sitting on my ass not doing anything for 3 days, I realized that I have no F****** choice in the matter. I can’t “will” injuries away. I can’t train legs with this current knee problem. I can’t do anything other than wait it out and do the best I can with the situation in front of me. It really is that simple. So, I wait. I am back in the gym tomorrow and I will continue going back as long as it takes to get this knee right.


I’m not asking for thoughts and prayers but if you do see me in the gym, do me a favor and give me a nod. I could really use it.

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