Why it’s important to have purposeful intent behind your activities
to you
While driving home after receiving the news, it struck me how sad I felt, as if someone I knew had died.
I felt hollow – like I permanently lost a big part of myself.
Perhaps I was being overdramatic, but after talking about it to several doctors and friends, what I was feeling is apparently pretty common.
After a year and a half of struggling with my shoulder, I decided it was time for the next step. It was time for imaging, which would hopefully give me better direction for recovery.
You may remember from a few weeks ago my mention of that imaging turning my life upside down.
Here's part 1 of what happened.
Shortly after returning from my first sports medicine appointment for my shoulder, which went well, I received a notification that my X-ray results were available.
I spent several minutes – in complete shock – staring at the words "severe arthritis."
This was literally one day after spending the previous two weekends playing sectional tennis tournaments. How is that even possible with severe shoulder arthritis (and lack of debilitating pain)?
My doctor, however, seemed optimistic because it appeared to be confined to one area, likely where my dislocation occurred 20+ years ago.
But that sliver of hope only lasted a few short weeks, until an MRI indicated the arthritis was even worse than expected – complete cartilage loss in the rear portion of the joint.
During my next follow-up, the doctor's tone was a lot more serious. Instead of talking about repair or rehab, which he thought the damage was too advanced for, we were talking about my trajectory for needing a shoulder replacement.
That day, my mentality abruptly shifted from "I need to fix my shoulder so I can get back to my previous level of tennis" to "my life as a competitive tennis player is over."
Tennis is a big part of my life and has been for about three decades.
I love everything about it, from the sensation of hitting a great shot and the never-ending pursuit of trying to get better at doing so, to the social aspect of it and the many friends I've made.
And I especially love that it's one of the few sports that you can continue playing competitively – and at a high level – into your seventies.
That's exactly what I expected to do – until now.
That is the piece of me that died.
It hurts just to write it, but it could be worse. Much worse. I'm doing my best to stay positive – and I probably won't have to completely give up tennis.
It's highly unlikely I'll be able to follow the path of my friend who, in his 70s, has beaten me, and travels all along the East Coast to play singles tournaments. But with a few compromises, and by taking great care of my shoulder, there's probably a level I can continue to play at without dramatically accelerating the need for a new shoulder.
But enough about me. As therapeutic as it is to put my thoughts into writing, the main reason I'm sharing this story is because I think it's a powerful example of a perspective that Coach Kayla and I are passionate about encouraging our clients to embrace.
If you've watched the U.S. Open in recent years, you may have noticed a digital projection on the side of the court that says "The world's healthiest sport."
There's actually research evidence that supports this statement, although it's not quite as matter-of-fact as the projection suggests.
More importantly, as much as I love tennis, I think it's misleading.
Yes, there are undoubtedly ways in which tennis can enhance both your mental and physical health. I could make a long list. But there's also a long list of ways in which it can accelerate the degeneration of your body (as evidenced by my shoulder).
Granted, it's my dislocation 20+ years ago that set my shoulder up for arthritis, but I have more than a few tennis friends who've had a hip or knee replaced and/or have long-standing injuries that affect their lives on and off the court.
The point is, I play tennis because I love it. NOT because it burns calories, NOT because it's a fun way to exercise, NOT because it's "The world's healthiest sport."
Exercise should be a lifelong habit. That means a lot of accumulated load and burden on your body over time.
When done intelligently, that accumulated load and burden translates into physical resilience and greater odds of maintaining physical independence for the rest of your life.
When done haphazardly, however, it can translate to a much shorter runway, as in early onset of pain and/or disability.
So, for any physical activity you engage in on a regular basis, here are two important questions to ask yourself:
- How much potential is there for this activity to cause unrecoverable damage?
- Can the activity provide enough benefit to justify that potential for damage?
(A great third question is if there’s an alternative that can provide a similar extent of benefit, or more, with less risk.)
For example, let's see how some of my activities stack up.
Ski racing is what caused my shoulder dislocation, and 20+ years of tennis is probably what turned that damage into advanced arthritis.
There’s high potential for damage in both cases, and that potential is now my harsh reality.
Ski racing and tennis, however, have added more than enough value to my life for me to be at peace with the depressing and frustrating state of my shoulder. (Although I’ll admit it’s easy to say that now, given that my shoulder is still highly functional and mostly pain-free.)
Most athletes I've talked to feel the same way.
But being an athlete and exercising for your health and longevity are two very different things.
One is a passion that comes with a considerable amount of inherent risk. The other is a form of hygiene and self-care, where the level of risk can be controlled and minimized to a much greater degree.
This is why I get concerned when people commit to extreme activities just for accountability and/or a temporary sense of accomplishment.
Running marathons, for example, is great for people who love endurance races, like I love tennis. But it's an arguably excessive amount of wear and tear for people just looking to regain their fitness and improve their health.
Likewise, CrossFit-style training is great for people who embrace it as a sport, which it is. But it imposes a lot of avoidable risk for people wanting to improve their strength, power, and aerobic fitness for health and wellness more so than performance.
There's also the popular trend of doing very demanding fitness classes three, four, or even five times per week, just to burn calories, or just because it's what their friends do.
Do the benefits justify the risk?
Maybe, maybe not. But you won't know if you don't think about it. And if you don’t think about it, you could end up staring at ugly words like "severe arthritis" on a medical report, wondering what you could’ve done differently.
Do that wondering NOW!
Be a skeptic. Don't blindly follow mainstream thinking and assume that the harder you push, the better, or that all movement, in any form or frequency, is always good.
If I played tennis just because it's the "world's healthiest sport," my shoulder situation would be a lot more frustrating than it already is. I can't just put my head down and exercise my way back to having more cartilage in my shoulder – the damage is done, and I'll have to live with it for the rest of my life.
Exercise is a powerful tool – it warrants deeper thought than working up a sweat in whatever way is fun.
But don't let that intimidate you from exercising or enjoying recreational activity.
Instead, let it be an incentive to put more thought into your activity choices.
If you enjoy recreational sports, like tennis, golf, or maybe even pickleball*, but don't love it enough to sacrifice your body, stay tuned. In a future email, I'll share some thoughts on the merits of playing sports and how to manage the physical burden.
To purposeful movement,
Dr. Vin
* As a (hopefully not former) tennis player, I can't help taking a little jab at pickleball. (But I'll still admit that it's fun. In an upcoming email, I'll discuss some of the merits of playing.)
🆘 Tired of exercise being more painful than helpful? With our firm commitment to balancing efficacy and safety, we can coach you to a better way. Book a free call with Coach Kayla to learn more!