Basketball was a large part of my childhood and youth, so much so that I’ve had a complicated relationship with the sport for about two decades. Part of conditioning for basketball was running suicides. You run from the baseline to the foul line, then back. You run from the baseline to the half court line, then back. You run from the baseline to the other foul line, then back. You run from the baseline to the opposite baseline, then back. And that is one suicide. To be faster overall, I always planted and turned on my left foot. Now, I wish I hadn’t done so. I had a few ankle problems then, but nothing catastrophic. My left ankle has just been weak ever since.

This winter, I signed up for church basketball. I hadn’t played in several years and I missed the game. I knew I wouldn’t shoot very well, especially at the start, but I wanted to feel the ball in my hands again. My team’s attendance record has been abysmal and more than once we’ve had zero subs available. We even played one game 4 vs 5 because that was how many people showed up. That wasn’t fun for anybody, but we still walked and jogged our way through it and called it getting some exercise.

During the most recent game, though, my left ankle gave out on me. I didn’t step on someone else’s foot and roll it. I just planted the foot to go up for a layup and my body said no. All I could do was to hobble over to the bench. It was a dejecting feeling, and it was prolonged by limited mobility over the subsequent days. I’ve known for a while that I should have been doing ankle-specific exercises and prehab type work given my earlier history. Now though, it appears that that’s not going to be optional if I’m going to make my way back onto the court. Suffice it to say, it’s not been the basketball comeback that I wanted thus far.