The tightrope of injury anxiety
Back in 2012, nine years before my 3rd-level grading, my Wing Chun took a turn for the worse.
Until then, my progress had been smooth, and I was loving the art more than ever. Because I'd been practising since 2003, Wing Chun felt like more than just a hobby.
I'd made great friends, developed my character, progressed well, and simply loved the art and everything it had to offer.
But the pain that greeted me in 2012 was unlike anything I'd ever felt.
It was constant. And it took hold of my life. Instantly.
Not only did the pain eventually force me to step back from Wing Chun, but it also blocked me from doing basic human functions. You know, things like...
...putting on a jumper or jacket.
...scratching my head.
...putting my arm under my pillow.
...picking up my kids.
Over the next few years, I'd repeatedly visit physios, osteopaths, and chiropractors. All with no luck.
They didn’t understand the injury or the movement patterns of Wing Chun, so it’s no surprise they were unable to treat the root cause of my dysfunctional shoulder.
At my very worst, in 2015, I spent ~3 weeks in the broken wing position - even while I slept.
It was the only position that provided a smidgen of relief. And it was around then I seriously considered stopping Wing Chun for good.
I'd taken a bit of time away before. You know, to try and let my shoulder heal.
...but as soon as I started practising again, the pain came back. Worse.
That's why injury anxiety riddled me with fear. I was petrified of permanent damage. But I didn't want to stop practising.
And with countless allied healthcare professionals promising to fix my shoulder, reassuring me it was getting better... yet having the pain repeatedly return worse... I felt helpless.
Even when I was temporarily away from the art, "recovering", and my shoulder felt pain-free, I had no confidence it was getting better.
And in 2015, I just couldn’t push through it anymore. It was all getting too much..
And then something weird happened...
Call it fate. Call it desperation.
But Wing Chun had led me on a health journey - and after completing a new phase of education in 2015, I finally had the "penny-drop" moment I needed.
I would eventually discover that the rehabilitation I needed was surprisingly simple.