David
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hacksterbator
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how bad? pm me.david wrote:Sprained my ankle yesterday.
if it's a bad sprain see some one about it. if it's a mild sprain here's what i would recomend...
-ice: 15 minutes on, 1 hour off for the next 2 days.
-keep off it as best you can.
-compress it with a bandage if you can.
-elevate it above your heart when you sleep.
-day 3, do alternating hot and cold water baths: get a couple of buckets, stick your foot in one for 5 minutes, then the other for 5 minutes, then back again and again and again.keep your foot swirling in the water to maintain constant temperature (convection will help with transfer). you can also do the same thing with ice packs and a hot water bottle (or a towel that has hot water poured on it/ has been soaked and microwaved)
-day 4 just do hot water baths, 15m on 1h off. stability exercises: stand on the injured leg, bend at the knee and hip, back neutral (normal upright posture), maintain balance for minute x 3 sets. eyes closed 30 seconds X 3 sets (do this near a chair or something you can hold onto if you lose balance). roll up a towel and stand on it perpendicular to your foot (so it makes an x underneath it) 30 s x 3, eyes open. 30 s x 3, eyes closed.
-day 5: hot water baths. stability exercises.
-day 6: hotwater baths. stability exercises. range of motion exercises: spell the alphabet with your injured ankle. A-Z. once in the am, once in the pm.
-day 7: hot water bath. stability exercises. A-Z. resistance exercises: if you have resistance bands, use those. if not grab a towel or an old t-shirt. hold an end, loop the middle of the towel under the ball of your foot and hold the other end in your other hand. make sure the towel is taught, press your toes down into the towel, resist gently with your arms. tie it to a chair or something, loop the towel around your toe box. bend slightly at the knee, pull your toes towards your shins -> extend you knee to control resistance and range of motion at the ankle. while seated, stand on both ends of the towel with your good foot, loop the towel around the other toe box. crank your ankle away from your body (like a reverse clipper). tie the towel to something beside you. loop the towel around your toe box, crank your ankle to make the sole of your foot face towards you opposite foot (do clipper cranks into the taught towel). start off today with 1 set of 10. next week, 2 sets of 12-15. week after 3 sets of 15.
Day 8-14: hot water baths. stability. A-Z. resistance exercises.
Day 15-21: stability. A-Z. resistance. slowly back to playing footbag.
A.G.
Dude, that sucks. I hope you'll heal quickly.
Ben Skaggs
Amateurs practice until they can get it right.
Professionals practice until they can't get it wrong.
No, I don't play soccer. Yes, there are competitions. 4 years. Lots of practice.
Amateurs practice until they can get it right.
Professionals practice until they can't get it wrong.
No, I don't play soccer. Yes, there are competitions. 4 years. Lots of practice.
Thanks for the sympathy guys, and thanks a lot for the advice Andrew.
Day 3 on the ankle is a bit better. Some flex is in it, not too hard to walk, so thats cool. Its weird, it doesn't feel as bad as the sprain before it 2 years ago (only 1 on this side). I thought it should be worse because its the 2nd time around, but it feels way better than before. The last sprain I had was on my left side and that was a total stiff fest, this feels a lot less rigid.
Well, time to sleep.
dc
Day 3 on the ankle is a bit better. Some flex is in it, not too hard to walk, so thats cool. Its weird, it doesn't feel as bad as the sprain before it 2 years ago (only 1 on this side). I thought it should be worse because its the 2nd time around, but it feels way better than before. The last sprain I had was on my left side and that was a total stiff fest, this feels a lot less rigid.
Well, time to sleep.
dc
david
- QuantumBalance
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this song makes me happy, hopefully it will do the same for u
http://www.penny-lane.com/sk2/endup.mp3
-Sam
http://www.penny-lane.com/sk2/endup.mp3
-Sam
Sorry to hear about the sprain Dave.
I wanted to tell you that I wish we could shred together because there is one thing (out of many) that I like about your game; You show raw emotion, namely anger. I notice myself getting angry during strings and when trying more complex tricks (I mean attacking-the-bag angry), and I think if we played together, we would scream and yell and thrash and enjoy.
Get better soon.
I wanted to tell you that I wish we could shred together because there is one thing (out of many) that I like about your game; You show raw emotion, namely anger. I notice myself getting angry during strings and when trying more complex tricks (I mean attacking-the-bag angry), and I think if we played together, we would scream and yell and thrash and enjoy.
Get better soon.
TJ Boutorwick
"You can do anything" -Greg Nelson
"You can do anything" -Greg Nelson
hey david. hope your ankle is feeling better. i was just going to ask you when you sent that stuff, i havnt gotten it yet. let me know... and check out my footblog! some good stuff. it all is a result of you telling me to work my clippers... my game is so much better for that tip. thanks, and see you later.
I am quite certain I think about the negative of footbag more than the positives. I think about what it takes away rather than what it gives. By this I mean how it chips at my body, how it frustrates me when I play badly, these type of things. It is beneficial to realize some of the things footbag has given me, and I thought I would share one of those things.
I was laying in bed tonight wide awake because I only had one class today at noon and I was thinking about footbag as I flexed my ankle back and forth in the air, unable to be seen in the darkness of my room. I thought about my parents who are on a plane to England right now to see my sister. My thoughts finally rested on my Dad and the conversation I had with my friends last night.
We were talking about parents and how often they say they love their children. I know one kid whose dad says he loves him every night before bed, and every time he gets off the phone. To me that is quite foreign. My Dad tells me he loves me but not really that often, maybe once a month? It is stuck on the end of a random phone call perhaps out of social requirement or perhaps out of love, I am never quite sure.
I am not sure how many people I love, but I know for sure that when I tell people I love them (basically my family) the degree of strength behind that varies greatly. I say it to my mom a lot, just because she says it to me and it is the expected response and she gets irked if I don’t say it. But the times when I actually mean it, like tonight when I talked to her before she left for the airport, those times really stick in my head. Those moments where it is not even you speaking, the words just flow out your mouth and your feelings turn into sound.
So tonight I was thinking about this and I realized that the two times I really knew my Dad loved me came through footbag. This is almost no surprise, as most of the pivotal things I’ve had over the past 5 years have something to do with footbag. Most of my personal growth has come from this sport and I attribute a lot of who I am today to footbag, which you probably have gathered if you read these pages.
The two times are burned into my mind so strongly, perhaps it is because of the look on his face, or maybe because of the strength of the hug he gave me on both occasions. Or possibly it was just that sparkle in his eyes that I have only seen on those two occasions.
You would think these moments where I felt connected to the man who gave me half my genes would come at something like my graduation, or maybe my confirmation. But at these events my Dad was like normal, and I can’t even really remember what he did when I showed him my diploma or glanced at him as I crossed the stage 2 summers ago. But I do remember with extreme vividness the two times he was there when I accomplished something in footbag.
The first time was at chilly philly 3 years ago, when I won my first event. It was intermediate shred 30 and I beat out Alex Hermann (a name no one knows except a few) by one point to win. My parents had not been there, out seeing Philadelphia or getting dinner, but when my dad came back into the site I ran up and told him. I was really happy at that moment to tell my parents. I played a guessing game I remember, asking my Mom and Dad to guess what I placed, telling them I dropped a few times, etc. I couldn’t hold back for long though, and I finally told them I won.
My dad yelled and hugged me and raised me in the air. He was more excited than I was. He put me down and kept hugging me and slapping my hand. I didn’t know how to feel, it was so weird. I had played sports in highschool, he had been to soccer games where I had scored goals, but those car ride homes were filled with a pat on the head followed by an hour of advice on what I could’ve done better. But this was different. No “you should’ve gone droplessâ€
I was laying in bed tonight wide awake because I only had one class today at noon and I was thinking about footbag as I flexed my ankle back and forth in the air, unable to be seen in the darkness of my room. I thought about my parents who are on a plane to England right now to see my sister. My thoughts finally rested on my Dad and the conversation I had with my friends last night.
We were talking about parents and how often they say they love their children. I know one kid whose dad says he loves him every night before bed, and every time he gets off the phone. To me that is quite foreign. My Dad tells me he loves me but not really that often, maybe once a month? It is stuck on the end of a random phone call perhaps out of social requirement or perhaps out of love, I am never quite sure.
I am not sure how many people I love, but I know for sure that when I tell people I love them (basically my family) the degree of strength behind that varies greatly. I say it to my mom a lot, just because she says it to me and it is the expected response and she gets irked if I don’t say it. But the times when I actually mean it, like tonight when I talked to her before she left for the airport, those times really stick in my head. Those moments where it is not even you speaking, the words just flow out your mouth and your feelings turn into sound.
So tonight I was thinking about this and I realized that the two times I really knew my Dad loved me came through footbag. This is almost no surprise, as most of the pivotal things I’ve had over the past 5 years have something to do with footbag. Most of my personal growth has come from this sport and I attribute a lot of who I am today to footbag, which you probably have gathered if you read these pages.
The two times are burned into my mind so strongly, perhaps it is because of the look on his face, or maybe because of the strength of the hug he gave me on both occasions. Or possibly it was just that sparkle in his eyes that I have only seen on those two occasions.
You would think these moments where I felt connected to the man who gave me half my genes would come at something like my graduation, or maybe my confirmation. But at these events my Dad was like normal, and I can’t even really remember what he did when I showed him my diploma or glanced at him as I crossed the stage 2 summers ago. But I do remember with extreme vividness the two times he was there when I accomplished something in footbag.
The first time was at chilly philly 3 years ago, when I won my first event. It was intermediate shred 30 and I beat out Alex Hermann (a name no one knows except a few) by one point to win. My parents had not been there, out seeing Philadelphia or getting dinner, but when my dad came back into the site I ran up and told him. I was really happy at that moment to tell my parents. I played a guessing game I remember, asking my Mom and Dad to guess what I placed, telling them I dropped a few times, etc. I couldn’t hold back for long though, and I finally told them I won.
My dad yelled and hugged me and raised me in the air. He was more excited than I was. He put me down and kept hugging me and slapping my hand. I didn’t know how to feel, it was so weird. I had played sports in highschool, he had been to soccer games where I had scored goals, but those car ride homes were filled with a pat on the head followed by an hour of advice on what I could’ve done better. But this was different. No “you should’ve gone droplessâ€
david
Awesome stories dude. Thanks for posting.
Ben Skaggs
Amateurs practice until they can get it right.
Professionals practice until they can't get it wrong.
No, I don't play soccer. Yes, there are competitions. 4 years. Lots of practice.
Amateurs practice until they can get it right.
Professionals practice until they can't get it wrong.
No, I don't play soccer. Yes, there are competitions. 4 years. Lots of practice.