Rehab Anew


This is KStar. He is my boss. He is also the man behind MobilityWOD.com. Doesn't he look nice? Ha. Ha. Ha. He likes to keep that pretty smile on that pretty face while simultaneously making you squirm and possibly cry because you've wrecked your body up pretty bad and he'll be damned if he lets you leave his office without getting some of that shit worked out.

All the while saying "You did this to yourself!"

I've experienced the KStar pain on several occasions. I've left sympathetic system sweat angels on the ground from him working out knots in quads, triceps, and calves. Yesterday, I got a different dose of KStar pain.

That pretty smile still plastered on that pretty face ripped into me for my lack of effective shoulder therapy. You should have full range of active motion by now! You should be pressing a 5lb dumbbell by now. Three weeks since surgery? Way behind. You're friends with one of the top athlete physical therapists in the world and I'm only now talking to you? What gives?

But my insurance PT says blah blah blah.

Your PT is used to working with couch potatoes who don't know a damn thing about their body. By next week I expect to see x, y, and z from you.

So with my tail tucked between my legs, I shuffle back to my car, grap my mobility back from home and take the ManFriend to my other gym and get to work.

I hope no one out there actually thinks that KStar is a mean guy. He's one of the nicest, most exuberant, intelligent people out there. I love working for the guy, I love picking his brain and learning from him. He's created a fantastic environment for both athletes and coaches. But he also gives tough love, and honestly, I think that's what I was looking for.

So now that I've been given permission to endure a little discomfort, and given a sort of program to work with, I feel far more in control of my recovery than before. As an athlete and coach, it's a little disheartening when a therapist basically says "just do A, B, and C until I see you next." It puts no power in the hands of the recoveree. (That's a word, seriously.)

I already feel better.