Warning – Injured Golfer. Approach with Caution!

Ok, I’ll admit it – I’ve been lax about watching any real amount of golf during this past month.  This not only includes my usual Thursday through Sunday routines, but also its renewed inclusion in the Olympics.

I have my excuses that I could name such as planning for a huge move in less than a week, the kids starting back to college, or my preoccupation with the 24-hour coverage of the Olympics.

It could also be that I have been injured and unable to play or practice.  I tend to think that this has had the greatest negative impact.  I won’t go into my long explanation for my injury, but to say that it has plagued me for years, stemming from over 16 years of competitive running.  Just as I used to get upset when I couldn’t run, I now get that same feeling when I can’t golf.

Experts in sports medicine and psychology have given this condition a name – injury depression.  When one is used to participating in a particular sport or activity, and an injury of some sort makes it either extremely difficult or impossible to continue that activity, there is a sense of loss.  Now, I’m not comparing this malady to the too real problem of actual clinical depression, but it exists.

When I’m unable to play golf due to an injury, I start to feel a little sorry for myself.  I begin to analyze what caused the injury and start to plan my return to the sport.  All too often, I try to return too early and delay the healing process.  In addition, I find myself missing golf and seek to remedy this with watching any form of the sport I can find on television or online.  This, in turn, makes me miss it even more.  It’s a pitiful cycle.

I mean, I’ve had rounds that I’ve hated.  I’ve had rounds that I wished would never end.  When I’m injured and can’t play at all, I’d take either one.  (I say this now, but those bad rounds really suck when you’re stuck in the middle of them).

To beat it all, I pass at least two courses on a daily basis.  I get to watch those practicing their skills at the range, teeing off toward a new green, or eyeing the path of the perfect putt.  I get jealous. I wish I was out there.

Summer is closing up here in Kentucky – not that it matters to me or my golfing buddies.  With our erratic local weather, we’ve been known to golf with snow flurries falling.  We try to get our rounds in when we can.  I’ve missed a few weeks now, and I’m still not fully healed.  It’s aggravating and slow-moving, but it’s shown me that I should really take time to appreciate the things that I like to do.

Like many who read these articles, I am an avid golfer, but I don’t let the game interfere with my time spent with family.  I like to take my son golfing with me when our schedules allow.  I’ve spent time on the course with both my wife and daughter, and I’ve enjoyed every minute.  I miss the things that matter to me when I can’t be around them (as with friends and family) or when I can’t participate in them (as with golf).  I know that I’ll heal and I’ll return to the course and to practicing on the range and in my backyard – in fact, I already have a tee time booked in a few weeks.

So, to those of you who’ve been injured and couldn’t play, I feel your pain (literally and figuratively).  It’s aggravating and bothersome.  It stinks when you can’t do something you want to do, but physically can’t.  I also understand that there are those with handicaps and circumstances that prevent them from ever playing a round of golf, and when I put it in perspective, I’m being really petty.

But for now, I’ll just feel sorry for myself a little longer.

Hit ‘em long and straight…

Cover Photo via Flickr