Thinking About That Knee
So, I was watching Steph Curry play the other night. You see the shots, the movement, the whole show. But then my mind drifted to his knee. Yeah, that knee. It’s almost a character in his story, isn’t it?
It’s funny how we see the final product, the guy hitting impossible shots, and we forget what goes into just being able to be on that court. All those years, all that pressure on the joints. That knee’s seen some battles, I bet. Not just the ones on TV, but the quiet ones, the daily grind of just keeping it together.
It Got Me Reflecting…
This whole Curry knee thing, it really got me thinking about something I went through a while back. Wasn’t on a basketball court, not by a long shot. My personal battle was trying to get my garden into shape after I’d let it go for way too long. Sounds silly, maybe, comparing it to an elite athlete, but bear with me.
I’d look out at this overgrown mess, weeds everywhere, soil all compacted. And my own knees, well, they aren’t what they used to be. Just the thought of all that bending, kneeling, digging… it was overwhelming. I’d start, then stop. Felt like I was making zero progress.
- Just clearing a small patch felt like a huge effort.
- My back would ache, knees would protest.
- I’d look at what was left and just feel defeated.
I was seriously considering just paving the whole thing over. Thought it was beyond me, that I just didn’t have it in me anymore to do that kind of work.
The Grind Behind the Glory
Then, I was channel surfing, and there was a segment on athletes and their training, and Curry came up. They weren’t just showing game highlights. They touched on the relentless, boring, day-in-day-out maintenance work he does. The prehab, the rehab, the constant attention to detail to keep his body, especially those knees, able to perform at that level.
And something just sort of clicked in my head. It wasn’t about me suddenly being able to garden like a pro. It was about the approach. He doesn’t just show up on game day and hope for the best. There’s a whole mountain of unseen effort, repetitive tasks, that make the magic possible. He puts in the work, even when it’s not glamorous, even when it hurts, because that’s what it takes.
So, I decided to apply that idea to my disaster of a garden. I stopped looking at the whole overwhelming mess. Instead, I broke it down. One small section at a time. Just focus on clearing this square foot today. Tomorrow, the next. Didn’t matter if it was slow. Didn’t matter if my knees complained a bit. I just had to be consistent, do my little bit of ‘maintenance’ work each day I could.
What I Took Away
It took weeks. Months, actually. There were days I really didn’t want to. But I’d think about that relentless dedication, that behind-the-scenes grind. Slowly, very slowly, that garden started to change. Weeds went, soil got turned, new plants started to go in. It wasn’t a miracle transformation. It was just steady, plodding work.
And now, when I look at my garden, it’s not perfect, but it’s mine, and I got it there. Thinking about Steph Curry’s knee, of all things, gave me a new perspective on tackling a tough job. It’s a reminder that most achievements aren’t about a single burst of brilliance. They’re built on a foundation of often tedious, uncelebrated effort. Just keep showing up and doing the work. That’s the real practice.
