“That was 30 reps,” I said while shaking and panting. Ryan, my PT, replied: “I know, keep going.” “To where?” “I’ll tell you when to stop.” There is physical therapy, and then there is Park City-style physical therapy. As you guys may know, I had surgery on my knee 3 weeks ago. That went fine, no problems, great surgeon, great team. My knee doesn’t hurt at all; however, my glutes, my quads and generally my entire body have me longing for a stretcher. Going up stairs is an ordeal of grunts and moans. Why is this? Well, I have been going to Mountain Top PT, where there is a wall of signed photos of various competitive athletes, special forces people, first responders, and other super humans expressing their gratitude for their rehabilitation. But no one like that was in the treatment area today — just regular people moving slowly, or being worked on gently.
The mistake I made was: when Ryan asked me what I was looking forward to, I told him my Masters Ski racing begins Dec 1, and could I be ready. That was like releasing a greyhound from a starting gate. He smiled and said, “This is Park City, that is what we do.” What I didn’t understand was that gleeful smile was him sorting me into the group of heroes on the wall, not the mortals I saw in the treatment room. I am not sure if this was aspirational thinking on his part or he just likes crushing people, but the program immediately changed to something more like Olympic Ski Racer Training. Give him credit that he totally ignored my age. He never asked; all he heard was my goal. Gotta love that.
Today’s session was back in the main PT room with a bunch of massage tables, a collection of recovering people being worked on, and me, panting, shaking and groaning with what Ryan has me doing with a 30lb kettlebell. It was a spectacle — some of the people on the tables started cheering. When I don’t think I can do another rep, I bring to mind one of the people I have known over the years who is no longer with us, and I tell myself this rep is for them. Then I do another. It is a tremendous privilege to be where I am. Bad things can happen to good people no matter how well one takes care of one’s self. I am lucky. I also have been going to a gym, although not nearly as hard as what is happening now, for almost 35 years. Consistency has worked for me. I know I won’t be able to do this sort of thing endlessly but, when Ryan says I can dial it down to 50%, I tell him no way, I can still do more. I am that AGEIST guy and there are standards I need to keep. As Gaga said after an exhausting tour one morning, looking in the mirror, “You are Gaga; walk the talk.”
Onward and upward,
David
