Follow Me by Ricky Dillon

Author:Ricky Dillon
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Atria/Keywords Press

CHALLENGE

#NASTYSMOOTHIEFORRICKY

That’s right—re-create this exact same drink and take at least one real sip. No cheating, I want to see you blend it!

CHALLENGE

#HOTSAUCEFORRICKY

Gather up as many different kinds of hot sauces as you can and try them all. (Here’s a tip for after—milk works better than water for getting rid of the burn!)

HEALTH

For professional athletes, there’s nothing more terrifying than a career-destroying injury. For fifteen-year-old Ricky Dillon, there was nothing more terrifying than a bunch of seniors thinking I couldn’t deadlift as much weight as they could.

See where I’m going with this?

After I’d finally made the varsity tennis team my sophomore year of high school, we had about a month to prep before the season started, and a lot of that time was meant for weight training to help build up our arms. I remember walking into the gym after school and seeing a bunch of buff senior dudes grunting and picking up two-hundred-pound weights as if they were feather pillows.

Since I’d had such a hard time making the team, I felt like I needed to prove myself to these guys. Never mind that no one had ever taught me how to lift correctly, or even told me that you were supposed to have a spotter. I just wanted to show these total strangers that I was worthy of playing tennis alongside them. If that meant defying gravity by picking up a hunk of lead that really didn’t want to move from where it was already resting comfortably, then I was going to go for it.

I don’t remember how much weight I tried to lift. All I can recall is standing over the barbell, sneaking a glance in the mirror to make sure people were watching, and then bending over. Next came the searing pain in my back as a hunk of muscle tore away from my spine.

I went straight to the school’s trainer and told him what had happened. By then the pain was already fading, but it was replaced by the horrifying sensation of strained muscle rubbing up against bone with every step I took. Every tiny movement reminded me that something INSIDE MY BODY had come loose.

I was fully healed a month later when tennis season started, but only barely in time. I had to do a full month of physical therapy, including gentle workouts on this weird machine that made my arms spin around like legs do on a stationary bike. I also had to constantly swap out cold compresses throughout the day. It was so embarrassing. I couldn’t decide whether I felt more like an old man with my bad back, or like a child because of my dumb thought that I could do anything the big kids did.

I’m very, very careful now in the gym. Almost to the point of paranoia, but the good kind that means you’re watching out for yourself. As soon as I was able to pick things up again after the accident, I made sure to learn the proper form and technique for every kind of lifting out there.

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