jacked-up back, baby golfer

My stupid back is still all jacked up, ever since Christmas when it randomly got hurt and I couldn’t walk for a couple of days. So I went to the doctor a few weeks ago about it and since then I’ve had x-rays and have been going to physical therapy twice a week. Turns out there are all kinds of things wrong with it. I had evidence of vertical shear, likely from a fall I had a few years ago, and my disc spaces are narrowing, and I have mild scoliosis, but the biggest things right now are that my sacroiliac joint isn’t working quite right, and my sacrum is sort of out of alignment and wedged into my pelvis. Or something. I’ve heard a lot of doctor-speak about it lately and it’s all starting to bleed together. And my hip flexors are too tight. I can’t even keep track of it all. It hurts and it has caused me to miss some stuff I’ve really been looking forward to and I want it to get better.

My physical therapist says I can continue to do stuff that doesn’t hurt, and I should avoid stuff that does hurt. So I’m not walking on the treadmill so much, but I can still use the recumbent bike, and I try to avoid lifting stuff and sitting in hard chairs for long periods of time, but I can still golf.

Oh, yeah, did you hear? I am learning to golf. I am a baby golfer.

Golfing is okay because it doesn’t seem to aggravate the parts of my back that are messed up, and it’s strengthening some of my core muscles so that’s good. Plus, it’s all part of my ten-step plan to be a better yuppie. I don’t really know what the other nine steps are, but I’ve been spending an awful lot of time wearing polo shirts and khakis at country clubs lately so I assume the transformation is occurring as planned. One of these days someone is going to discover my poor white trash roots and my rise to LPGA stardom will be instantly thwarted.

I used to swear that I would never ever play golf. How boring. How stupid. How uppity. And then all of a sudden I found myself at a driving range taking my first feeble swing at a golf ball and the rest is history. I have my own golf clubs now, and a glove, and a little towel, and I’m wearing sporty visors. Visors! A country club in town has been offering free clinics to women and so my friend and I have been going twice a week for a few weeks, and I love it. I’m stressed beyond belief at work and it all seems to melt away when I’m hitting golf balls.

I’m nowhere near a real course yet. I need to get more consistent on the range before I attempt to play actual golf. Baby steps for a baby golfer, is what I’m doing.

In other news, it is my solemn belief that Mondays are still shit, even though tomorrow’s Monday is a holiday and I may spend part of it at the pool.

Comments 6

  • All i have to say is Par 3 golf course at brookside in Roanoke. i gotta see this golf prowess.

  • It’s the little towel what really makes you a golfer; I’ve seen golf on TV and they all seem to have them. I know that if I were in the little towel business one of my second stop would be a golf course.

    The first would be the community pool at a little people apartment complex.

  • Cannot quite see it …

  • Part of that ten step process is converting to Fox News, so beware!

  • Just model yourself after me and you will make the path to yuppidom in no time…I have been one all my life, and I have to admit life is grand…okay maybe not all the time, but anywho back to work!

  • I also spurned golfing until somehow getting bit by the bug.

    Too bad your back prevents you from walking; when I severely strained my back, one doctor wanted to operate. During a second opinion, the next doctor said to go for a 1 hour walk (can be split in two) each day. That took me back to about 95% in one month, then various other exercises helped the rest of way.

    Dad, Fox News would be a backslide; try watching The Newshour with Jim Lehrer for two weeks and see how a neutral news program is run. I’m not joking. One who purposefully watches a news programs biased to their perspectives passively condones the amplification of their prejudices.

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