By Peter terHorst

We’ve all had our share of bumps and bruises, and sometimes worse. But at age 49, I experienced the strangest injury. And it didn’t happen on a motorcycle.

The circumstances were seemingly innocuous. Visiting a friend one summer, I spotted a large rope swing hanging from a tree. Recalling how much I had enjoyed swinging as a youth, I jumped in the wooden saddle and built up a good head of steam.

Nearing the top of an arc, I turned my head to the left to look around and immediately felt a snap in the right side of my neck. It was as if someone had zinged me with a big rubber band.

The only lasting pain was a dull aching sensation in my neck. However, during the next 12 hours, I developed a progressive series of muscle spasms that started in my neck and worked all the way down and around my right shoulder blade.

The pain grew, becoming excruciating and, after two days, I went to the emergency room and got some pain killers. Over the next three weeks, I consumed all the pain killers and an entire bottle of acetaminophen.

Eventually the spasms dissipated and my neck and upper back muscles were almost non-functional. My scapula was winging out, and my right shoulder was so weak I couldn’t raise my right arm. I couldn’t even shrug my shoulder.

Riding was out of the question, and it was the prime season!

What followed was a month of visits to docs, specialists, PTs and chiropractors to figure out what was wrong. As the muscles atrophied and I was about to give up hope, a neurologist hooked me up to a fancy machine and diagnosed a severely damaged long thoracic nerve.

Wait, what?

The doc said I had lost 90 percent of the nerve’s function, but not to worry, it would grow back an inch per month, and I had about 8 inches of downstream nerve to regenerate.

Over the next nine months, with the help of a gifted acupuncturist, I slowly regained the use of my upper back muscles. Then, I spent another eight months retraining them.

My treatment and rehab cost a lot of money, not to mention time.

During my recuperation, I racked my brain, wondering what I could have done to prevent such an injury. I read everything I could find, talked to specialists and listened to others in rehab. In the end, I determined that it was simply my fault. Something we motorcyclists are wont to tell ourselves.

Being fairly fit most of my life, I’d had great success pushing myself when I needed to perform. When it came to strenuous exercise, pain was something I didn’t listen to, I just pushed past it. After the discomfort faded, I figured my muscle tone and endurance would return.

I never developed a regular, disciplined exercise routine, because I didn’t think I needed one. Even though I could maintain my youthful weight, I yoyoed from fit to flabby.

When I damaged the nerve in my neck, I was coming off a long period of inactivity. I hadn’t stretched in months and I was really tight from life’s stresses. My neck muscles were inelastic and unaccustomed to the strain I placed on them to arc ever higher on that rope swing. They locked around the nerve and stretched it until it tore.

Today, I exercise regularly. But I no longer push my body like I used to do. Instead, I listen. When I feel a sharp pain or even a twinge, I pause and take measure of what’s going on. I do my best to stay in balance. That goes for diet, too.

For those who haven’t suffered this type of injury, pay attention to your body’s signals. If you wake up with an aching back, tight hamstrings or stiff shoulders, don’t ignore what your body is saying to you. Start and maintain a low-impact fitness routine. If you need a trainer to get going, it’s worth the extra bucks.

As riders, many of us own more than one motorcycle. When repairs are needed, they’re straightforward. But we only get one body, and replacement parts are hard to come by.

If you want to enjoy a vintage body that can enjoy motorcycling well into your advancing years, start treating yourself like a classic.