Today I sprained my ankle. It wasn’t a bad sprain and I managed to do it in a most unconventional manner, shoveling dirt.
We recently created a pond out of a seasonal slough in the back yard. With the assistance of an excavator and expertise from Mike James at wildwoodwaterscapes.com we created an oasis of tranquility in what would ordinarily be a drought stricken dust bowl. This morning, while digging a trench to bury electrical cable from my house to the pumps at the water feature, I sprained my right ankle by pushing too hard on the shovel. It seems that below my layer of topsoil is a clay-hardpan mix that can be compared to concrete… or is it that my old body isn’t what it used to be?
As a youngster of 16 I dug numerous trenches through this same terrain without a whimper. It was a release for excess energy caused partially by hormones run amok. In those days the neighbourhood was sparsely populated, suffice to say that my realm of social contacts was limited. Mindless physical labor was a way of distracting the brain. Today while flailing a pick and scooping dirt my mind was not wandering. Indeed, it was focused upon my flagging energy level and the dismally long stretch of trench yet to be dug.
Getting old.
Brock's Book Blog 
I turned 37 last month and a few weeks later, experienced my first bout of back pain… but with age comes wisdom and a wealth of experience, and those experiences prove invaluble when writing. If I have to pop a couple Advil along the way, I’ll consider it a fair trade. 🙂