Last weekend, I went up to Oshkosh for
Pigfest, an annual 10's rugby tournament. It was my first taste of rugby since the end of June, and that was just a little bit. Unfortunately, the taste was brief. At kick-off, I (not quite) tackled someone and hit my left ribs against him while doing so. That set of sparks of pain up and down the left side of my torso. I ran around until a whistle was blown and subbed out of the game.
My ribs hurt when I breathed deep or if I picked up anything more than five pounds. So I got to watch everyone but me play rugby, although I was thankful I wasn't the one who had his scrotum torn open by a goon.
Skip to Monday and I headed into the doctor's office to see if my ribs were broken. After some x-rays and an examination, she said that I most likely bruised a rib deeply, but she would have the radiologist look at them when he was in. I figured that I was just being a big, whiny wimp - not exactly what you want to be in rugby.
Skip to Tuesday, I received a call from the doctor. She said that the radiologist determined that I broke my rib two months ago. On Monday I had told her that in mid-May I tackled a teammate in practice by pulling him forward and his full weight hit me focused on his knee against my rib. Funny thing was it hurt a lot more when I aggravated it on Saturday.
So I'm not a wimp and I achieved my goal for the season by breaking my very first bone. It sounds like a rather dour goal, but I figure the odds of getting injured in rugby were even and that I might as well get it over with. Besides, I played for three weeks with a broken bone. How cool is that?