BasketballPark

Wait a Minute!

It was a beautiful day in Grand Rapids on Thursday: 65 degrees, hazy sunshine, no wind, and a perfect day to take a kid to the park. Riley likes basketball (as is required of all children in the Midwest); he can’t hit the rim with the net at 10 feet, but that didn’t stop him and three other kids his size. Attempts were many, but baskets were few, and they didn’t seem to care.

Naturally I had to give it a try. I tried from 10 feet to the right of the basket, but my shot fell two feet short. Whoa! Tried again, and watched the ball sail under the basket. So in spite of having a three-month old knee, I tried a jumpshot—and stumbled a little as I landed. Yikes. My balance, spatial awareness, equilibrium, and power all seem to have left me in the past few months.

I sat down on a bench and pondered, “How do I get back from this far down?” I never expected things to get this bad so quickly; or has it really been even longer? I haven’t attempted anything like a jumpshot in a while. Then a phrase Riley likes to say popped into my head: “Wait a minute!” I already know the answers: Eat less. Eat better. Move more.

Moving more may mean going back to working on balance movements; spatial awareness may mean standing tall, closing my eyes, and touching my nose with my index finger. Neural pathways have to be awakened. They’re still there, just dormant.

There may be no NBA in my future, but I’ll get back to hitting that 15-foot baseline jumper this summer. Lucky for me, I have a built in practice buddy who’s always ready to play. Grandkids are the best!

What are you prepared to do today?

        Dr. Chet