I get ranting.  I have an opinion.  About everything.  But then again, it’s my blog and I’ll rant if I want to (she says in a sing songy voice).

Youth sports injuries occur at about 7 million/year. Interesting number.  I can quote a source here, but don’t know the particulars of what constitutes “injury”.  Said injuries have increased in the last 20 years.  Of course they have; we have more children in sports.  More kids in general.

As we add more kids to the mix we need more coaches, and sometimes those are difficult to find.  Some are undertrained and don’t want to be there (but if you want your kid in the system, you have to do your part).  Others are over agressive and have children doing training protocols that are too advanced for their years. In climates like Florida’s we have year round sports.  And by that I mean…you can play soccer all year or swim all year or play volleyball all year.  That’s a good way to get some overuse injuries.  We don’t tend to honor the “off season”.  We don’t always let the kids switch activities, giving some muscles and movements a break while allowing other body parts to learn new skills and develop.  We have a lot of specificity. 

Consequences.  Kids my lose time from all activities when they get hurt, and they are even shown to miss school time.  With things like growth plate injuries there is often long term effects.  Not to mention the fact that we eventually want people to learn to listen to their bodies, to mother nature, to signs and symptoms.  “Gotta’ make it through the championships” may cause “hearing” impairment.

Rest.  Recover.  Fuel your body with the proper nutrients.  Technique.  Skill.  Camaraderie.  Team development.  Anger management.  Dealing with the stress of life.  Coping with changing bodies.  I just wish there was room for a little more of this.

As with every step on the highwire, I must constantly adjust to the forces that surround me.  It must be the season…the winds are a’ blowin’ and they are creating a whirl of school kids.  I’m a bit on over-stim with the confusion it all brings…happy to have children around, glad to have the business, inability to draw a clear line in the sand, chatter of their voices, glee in their active lifestyle, joy in their advancing skills, chatter in my head.  Sometimes I’m just glad it’s somebody else’s kid and I don’t have the final say.  And sometimes I’m sad the little superstar isn’t my own. 

Damn wind blows me right off the wire on occasion.  Climbing back up isn’t always pretty to watch, but the easiest answer.   And that’s a fact.

Good golly...someone DOES attempt this outside of a circus tent!