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Showing posts with the label fractured ribs

Precerpt from Grandma's Ninja Training Diary: The Art of Editing, Not Erasing

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People think injury means stopping. Grandma Ninjas know better. When a rib decides to crack like an old floorboard, we don’t collapse into a recliner and wait for the universe to fix it. We adjust the training. I can’t do angels. I can’t do overhead stretches. I can’t twist like a pretzel. Fine. But I can still: touch my toes stretch my hamstrings do wall sits do squats walk my stairs breathe deeply keep the household running A Grandma Ninja doesn’t stop moving. She just moves intelligently . Healing isn’t passive. It’s strategic. And if you think a cracked rib is going to stop me from my morning calisthenics, you don’t know Grandma Ninjas. We don’t quit. We edit. Grandma’s Ninja Training Diary is the inspiring true story of a septuagenarian grandmother who dared to dream big—by training for American Ninja Warrior . Teaming up with her coach and trainer, she embarks on a three-year journey to build strength, resilience, flexibility, balance, and endurance—starting from scratch. While...

Precerpt from Grandma's Ninja Training Diary: Rib Fractures (They Happen)

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  Grandma Ninja: 1 Flying Monkey Stunt: 0 Walking up the stairs, reading texts on my phone with my left hand, and pulling a heavy box with medical supplies with my right hand, I lost my balance when the big box ripped open, throwing me over the railing into the elephant ear plant below. Beside the plant was a metal garbage can. As luck would have it, I landed right on top of it. Crack...! Two ribs fractured. So, the ER doctor told me it would take six weeks for my ribs to heal. Six. Weeks. Grandma Ninja apparently heard “six days” and went with that instead. My PCP confirmed it this week. Lungs clear. Movement normal. No restrictions. (Except “no more flying monkey stunts,” which seems fair.) He asked how the plant I dove into was doing. I told him he should be asking how I am doing. He said I’m tough and would outlast it. I didn’t argue. Was it the calcium? The Fosamax? The prayers? Maybe all of the above. I suspect the real culprit is Grandma Ninja — the balance work, the breat...