Oxthink

I enjoy my sport. It’s an important part of my life. I play every week – up to three times a week.

It’s physical, it’s competitive, it’s social, it’s fun, it keeps me active and it keeps me fit.

But I’m now getting on a bit in age and I’ve been playing for a long time to a reasonably high standard. It will have taken its toll on my body.

And that’s starting to make me worry.

Given how competitive the games are and the level that I play at, I do get plenty of little niggly aches and pains. I also very occasionally get an injury that is a bit more serious, one that obliges me to take a short break from the game whilst my body repairs itself.

Admittedly, as I get older, the niggles are coming more often and the recovery is taking longer. That makes it a bit more concerning. Are these warning signs? Are they trying to send me a message? Are they suggesting that, at my age, I should be re-thinking my participation in this sport?

Perhaps I do need to listen to my body, to pay more attention to what my body is trying to tell me.

Sooner or later, I know I will experience an injury that puts me out of the game completely. It’s the nature of sport, the way of life – at some point your body will not let you do what you want it to do.

In terms of ending my playing career, the chances are that it won’t be a seismic injury, like breaking a leg. It’s more likely to be one that strikes covertly.

Gradually, over the years of playing, I have been inflicting attritional damage on my body. Wear and tear. Ankles, knees, hips – they have all taken a hammering from the game. They will have all suffered some damage.

The trouble is that any deterioration is subtle and unnoticeable. I will only realise how bad it is when it reaches a critical point that either stops me playing or significantly affects the level that I can play at. By then it will be too late. The damage will have been done.

The worry is that any severe, lasting harm could impact my wider life. I might not be able to do my job. Travelling might become difficult. Insurance premiums might increase. My walking – speed and endurance – could be hampered. I might not be able to energetically play with my grandchildren. It might stop me playing any kind of sport. I will gain weight and lose my fitness.

So my question is this: How much longer should I keep playing for?

There comes a time when perhaps it’s right to say “That’s enough. My body can’t take any more. I need to retire from the game.”

Certainly, the sensible thing would be to stop playing my sport before any lasting damage is done.

But how do I know when that time is? When do I decide that I should stop playing?

When a sport is such a major part of your life it’s difficult to walk away from it. How can I stop doing something that I enjoy, something that I have done for over forty years?

This reasoning explains why most amateur players will keep playing until they can do it no more, until injury breaks them.

If only it didn’t have to be like this.

A better solution would be for sports people to have a body scan every five years or so to assess the damage that is occurring to their joints, particularly in terms of the bone wear caused by repetitive actions. They could then, with the help of medical advice, get a good idea of what the future holds. They could stop playing before they need major surgery such as a hip replacement. Preventative medicine at its best.

Perhaps in the future all gyms and sports centres may offer such scanning services, a facility that measures bone degradation and damage. It would save the health service a small fortune in pain-killing medicines, physiotherapy services and joint replacement surgery.

This may be a great idea but would it actually make any difference. Sports people can be single-minded and stubborn.

Faced with the prospect of ending my playing days, would I listen to medical opinion? Or instead, would I look for some sort of exemption? If I was told that I have seventy percent wear on my knee, I’d still think that there was thirty percent left. That would tempt me to carry on doing what I’m doing. I’d also perhaps look for ways of reducing any risk – footwear with extra support, playing twice a week instead of three times, playing a gentler game, one that involves less vigorous movement.

Anything to put off the inevitable. Anything to keep me playing.

This persistence and determination comes with playing sport. The sports person is always fighting more than one battle. Not only are they up against their competitors but they are also contending with the limitations of their body – their fitness, skill levels and physical impairments.

As competitive people they won’t want to be beaten by either.

If I was sensible I know that I should find another activity that I enjoy just as much as the sport I play now. It’s just that it would mean starting again. I find that rather daunting. I’m too old for that, too stuck in my ways.

So, guess what? I will probably keep on doing what I am doing until I can do it no more, until I have done some damage that makes it impossible to carry on.

Most likely, my body will stop me playing rather than me stopping my body from playing.