I have awful legs.
30 years of sports have made them a mess.
They’re a medical log of surgeries, injuries, broken bones, and ripped flesh.
They’re not the worst legs in the world, as there are millions of people that have suffered indescribable accidents, and others who have no legs but have achieved things that I can’t imagine doing.
But my legs have issues that if I could choose I would rather not have. Still, they take me everywhere I go, so they’re not a real problem.
This got me thinking about why do I complain about my legs if they do what they’re supposed to?
It’s a matter of mindset. I’m focusing on the pain and suffering I had with each injury while ignoring how good it felt each time I returned to the fields after long recoveries, and how much more desire for the game I had than most other players.
I had recoveries lasting weeks, months, and even years, so I knew that I had to enjoy each moment because it could be the last for a very long time, so while others were worrying about winning, I was focused on loving the game.
