As a Taekwon-Do Instructor, I think I'm pretty good. I mean part of my job is helping people improve their overall fitness levels, which as we all should know.. is pretty painful for average folks. Add to that the mental endurance and learning aspects of the martial art together with the idea of breaking boards with body parts... you have to be pretty committed to do what we do AND make others do it too.
I really thought I had found my calling.... I enjoy seeing others work out hard and don't mind them complaining or whining because of something I made them do that is good for them. I really thought that martial arts instruction was about as mean a career as you could find.... til I started Physical Therapy this week. Now I have a whole new level of understanding of what MEAN really means.
For those who don't know me, I am a 2nd degree black belt in USTF/ITF Taekwon-Do. I was SUPPOSED to be testing for my 3rd degree on 11/13.... but back in the beginning of September, long after summer break should have been over but before the little darlings went back to school, we went to the circus also known as Back to School Night. This is the night where every parent at our kids's schools go in to meet their kids' teachers so they can decide whether or not to complain (just kidding... it's really our chance to make a good first impression as responsible parents). So there I was, bringing Thing 1 and Thing 2 to Thing 2's Meet the Teacher night... of course the whole parking lot was FULL... so parents were parking along the curb in the bus lot with driver's side door against the curb. I parked there, opened the door, stepped my left foot on the curb, reached in back to grab my purse and remind the Things that there's only one opportunity to make a first impression so they should really stop screaming at each other about whether water or air can go through paper faster (seriously you should hear the fights we have in my car)... and then it happened. My big toe slid off the curb, down to the ground, twisting and wrenching my foot and after it landed it twisted back up. My initial reaction was Wow... that hurt. Then we went into school, met the teachers, got in line for gym shirts and directories and lunch money and so on and so forth... then I headed off to teach TKD and my adrenaline was flying. I don't think I've ever put a class through what I did that night. When it was all over, and I finally sat down for the first time, I couldn't get back up. Not being a medical professional, I figured... HEY it hurts.
Long story short, I did a massive amount of damage that put me in an Aircast boot for 8 weeks. 2 sprains simultaneously. It was almost impressive in its sheer howtheheckdididothat-edness. So I got out of the boot (affectionately known as Das Boot Saturday. Started PT Monday. Have never met a more sadistic human being in my life than PT Guy... but I must admit... I may have found my "what I'll be when I grow up in my next life" job. Jury is still out on whether the foot will ever regain functionality. Right now it's like trying to walk with a dead fish. Try it sometime (not the accident, but walking on a dead fish)... you'll see what I mean.
