The Fragile Week

I have a modest, simple dream.
It’s been the same since I began this journey.

To make it through a full week without getting injured.

Monday morning arrived with promise. I felt good — loose, strong, smiling. For a moment, I even let myself think: maybe this is the week. Maybe this small, unreasonable dream might finally be realised.

The session was going well. Movement felt clean, effort felt honest, and then — just like that — it ended with me limping away, back to my room, assessing the damage.

What went wrong?
As always, I don’t really know.

We’ve been doing a lot of Xing Yi basics and form work, and I suspect I’ve simply overworked my right foot. The injury is familiar now — a sharp pain across the top of the foot, something strained through the ankle, sending signals I’d rather ignore but can’t.

It hurts. I’m limping. But the disappointment isn’t really the pain — it’s the time. Time not training. Time paused.

This way of life tests you in ways that are hard to explain. Progress rarely moves in straight lines here. It feels more like a rhythm of advance, retreat, and stillness — whether you want that stillness or not.

For now, there’s little to do but adapt. Stretching. Patience. Letting the body catch up to the ambition. Not the plan I had, but plans don’t carry much authority in places like this.

Reinvention is demanding when it’s physical. Even more so when you choose it later in life. I know I’m doing well. I also know I can do better.

I’m a bit broken. A bit bruised.
But I’m still here.

Back to the drawing board — not to start again, but to adjust the line and keep going.