Goodbye Injuries.

I went into the club this morning to collect my remaining medical exams from the Doctor. I know this man far too well, and he gave me the same look this morning that he has every time I’ve walked into his room, a raised eyebrow and a wry smile. He half feels sorry for me, curses fate and curses the sport. The fact that I’m even writing this is symbolic of the problem I have had this year. I have paid far too much attention to injuries – I have let them get to me, get me down, knock my confidence, hate my body, curse my luck, pine for the days when I could slash through a defence coming off a right and hand-off on the inside to make the half-break. But for much of the season I was playing without the ability to do that due to an ankle problem and a wrist problem. I now see that I should have just accepted that my game wouldn’t be the same, that I would have to adapt, and instead of moaning about what I can’t do and used to be able to do, just change my game.

Maybe it’s just the fallout from a first year with such an added training load and a step-up in standard, maybe it’s the hard ground, maybe it’s bad-luck. Probably a bit of each. And like Kevin Pietersen walking out of the cricket World Cup, each of those reasons was probably made worse, at least up until Christmas, by the idea that injuries always seem worse when you aren’t on top-form or aren’t very settled or comfortable. I hereby lay the medical exams to rest in the bottom of my bag, consigned to history as I take a summer of yoga, stretching, minimal weights and good company to hit season 2011-12 running. Maybe I'll use the multitude of x-rays and MRIs as wallpaper next year...