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And that starts with injury prevention through core strength and balance. Injury prevention is always better than injury rehabilitation.
“Good afternoon, everyone.” I announce to the yoga class.
Team management has told everyone this is a resource they support and encourage. It’s free to any and all in the complex and does not count as break time.
More and more people are coming. Very few people are using this as a get-out-of-jail-free card for a few hours a week away from their standard duties. Besides, most of us don’t know what a forty-hour workweek is anyway. Especially between July and January… February if you’re lucky.
“Let’s begin. Stand straight. Open your chest. And take several deep breaths.”
Without permission, my eyes go to Layton’s old spot even if it was only for a handful of classes.
His presence was larger than life and his absence is equally as notable.
I have to stop thinking about him.
Hans Carlson and Arthur Mattis are more disciplined now, although they’re also more somber. I hear the team was rocked by the news of Layton’s injuries and him landing on IR. And in this pack, he’s the alpha, so there’s a void in more than just the locker room.
Marshall is stoic, his practice far more focused.
We spend the next hour building strength and flexibility while releasing the stressors that impact our days, if only for an hour.
Mind, body, and soul align for peace.
If only for a while.
* * *
Layton
“Yes, sir,” I say through gritted teeth.
I listen as the man from team management drones on and on. I nod as if he can see me through the phone, but inside, I’m seething.
“I look forward to the day I can take you off that list.”
Injured reserve.
Reserve.
The next-in-linemaybeathletes who can’t play.
Almost good enough.
But not.
“HR will call you about what that means for your comp. The full resources of the team are at your disposal. Avail yourself of everything, Ranger. We need you back at one hundred percent.”
“Thank you.”
“Medical and coaching will give me regular updates. My door is always open.” And with that, the owner hangs up.
I want to throw my phone across the room, but I resist. Pop has walked in, and not that he wouldn’t understand, but my temper getting the best of me won’t help this situation.
I live in a constant state of anger. I’m pissed at everything and everyone.
Including myself. Always myself.
It’s that or pity.
