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A Republican philosophy goes something like this: If you take your car to the mechanic, and instead of fixing it, they take out the engine and charge you an arm and a leg, you should conclude that mechanics can't fix cars and you should probably just take yours to the junkyard and sell it for scrap metal.
I had an injury in my leg, and everybody was talking about that. I decided to cut my hair and leave the small thing there. I come to training, and everybody saw me with bad hair. Everybody was talking about the hair and forgot about the injury. I could stay more calm and relaxed and focused on my training.
I still start to get panicky each morning before I go on television. I'll say, 'I'm in awful shape, something is wrong,' and if I start to look like I'm going off the deep end, Jimmy Straka, the stage manager, will say, 'You're all right. Calm down.' Then Bryant Gumbel will grab me by the leg or something.
Though I was nominated for awards for films like 'Tezaab' and 'Apna Sapna Money Money' but I never won an award. Now I am not even nominated for any awards but still I attend the award functions as I love being there despite figuring prominently in a lot of leg pulling that goes around in the award ceremonies.
Had a dog. I had many. I grew up in rural Washington before I moved to the Twin Cities in Minnesota, and my first dog was - his name first was Bear, but then it changed to Big, and he sort of looked like Old Yeller. And then we also had a three-legged dog named Foxy, who we found because her leg was in a trap.
I do heavy weight deadlift squats, shoulder presses, push-ups, and I can pull up my own body weight. And I do an ab workout just about every night. It's 200 reps of five different exercises four times right before bed: a plank with hip twists, side bridge dips, a walking mountain climber, bicycles and leg lift.
You love the game, but it's hard to do the things you do when you're feeling like you're a leg down all the time, literally. Or you're always beat up, even coming into the season. So it's just not as fun when you're down, and you got to work your way up. And you can't really get there because you're so beat up.
One day I'd have 20 points, the next day two points. I was dribbling the ball off my leg. I couldn't understand why. The media started asking me, 'Is this because you are a new dad?' I didn't want to blame my son. There are plenty of people in much worse situations, and they make it work. I have to do that, too.
I really loved animals when I was little - my friend and I had an imaginary vet's office; we would mime doing surgery on animals. We treated more injuries than illnesses - fixing with a baby bear with a broken leg, removing a tumor. Of course, our surgeries would take about five seconds; that's how good we were.
I almost want to ask the judges, 'If you don't count leg kicks, if you don't count body kicks, why not?' So if you don't think they're effective in the scoring criteria, they're not effective striking, effective grappling, so how about I kick you in the body, I kick you in the leg, and you tell me how that feels?
Leg day is my favorite day. You can't have a thorough leg workout without feeling completely spent. It's a challenge, but the benefits of maintain muscle mass on my legs is important because, as the biggest muscle group in the body, it also helps me keep the proper body composition in terms of fat to muscle ratio.
When Sir Arthur Conan Doyle conceived Sherlock Holmes, why didn't he give the famous consulting detective a few more quirks: a wooden leg, say, and an Oedipus complex? Well, Holmes didn't need many physical tics or personality disorders; the very concept of a consulting detective was still fresh and original in 1887.
I played football; I was a running back, and I took a hit, and I had a hairline fracture in my leg which no one spotted, and I was playing basketball all winter and it got worse. And then I was long jumping, about 20 feet, and I landed one time and there was this big crack, and all the bones were jutting out of my leg.
Operating-room errors hold a special terror for patients, if only because they seem like the most avoidable kind of complications. The occasional horror stories of patients who have the wrong leg removed or the wrong knee replaced generate the most headlines, as do tales of patients whose identities are mixed up entirely.
Kristen Welker and Kelly O'Donnell, and producers Alicia Jennings and Stacey Klein, are all veterans of presidential foreign trips. Ali Vitali, who covered the Trump campaign, brings a different perspective: She flew nearly every leg of the president's 2016 campaign. It's a great mix of experiences and one hell of a fun group.
You can get into a very fancy car and know everything about the engine, but when you drive in that car, you feel that rush. In the same way, I think the more you know about love, the more you can enjoy it. And knowing about your personality type, who you are and what kind of person you're dealing with gives you a great leg up.
I hate leg exercises. I hate one-legged squats. I hate the hurdles and the split squats. I hate all the leg exercises. I know they help me, and I'm able to move around and don't have knee problems, and my hip doesn't hurt anymore, but when my trainer tells me I have to do them, I almost feel like my body goes into convulsions.
When I use the word 'healing,' by that I mean that every disease has a physical element that we're very good at handling, but there's always a sense of the violation. 'Why me?' 'Why is my leg broken on the ski trip and not anyone else's?' And I think that medicine has done a terrible job of addressing that spiritual violation.
I use a lot of balance training and functional training. Basically it's where you add an element of instability to a regular exercise. So whether it's on the physioball or the Bosu ball or just balancing on one leg, I try to incorporate an instable plane and/or movement to the exercise, so the body's doing two or more movements.
The fine line between roaring with laughter and crying because it's a disaster is a very, very fine line. You see a chap slip on a banana skin in the street and you roar with laughter when he falls slap on his backside. If in doing so you suddenly see he's broken a leg, you very quickly stop laughing and it's not a joke anymore.
I go into it with the attitude that I'm not going to look at my leg, and as soon as they get the wrapping off of it, I'm like, 'I've got to look.' It's like yelling at a dog going, 'Squirrel!' I cannot not look. And then I spend the rest of the time sitting there with a wet washcloth on my forehead trying to regain consciousness.
My focus had always been the on-side. My coach wanted me to work on the offside strokes since he was convinced of my ability and timing on the leg side. I worked hard and firmed up my defensive technique. I am happy getting runs all around the wicket now, and getting a lot of boundaries. No one calls me a 'leggie batsman' anymore.
After I hurt the knee, football wasn't nearly as much fun. I was limited. But you make do with what you have. I adjusted some. I was lucky to play as long as I did, with the different kinds of injuries I got. I played with two severed hamstring muscles in my leg late in my career. I could barely run, other than to drop back to pass.
From the age of eight until 15 or 16, every time I was out bowling leg spin I was thinking about my dad and when you've done that it stays with you. There are lots of things he did which enabled me to be the player that I was. It wasn't me that wanted to be a cricketer. He made me 90 per cent of the player I was and the person I was.
Growing up, in my under-15 days I used to be a wicketkeeper, and that carried on till I was 17. Then I started focusing on my batting and moved on. I got into the Ranji team quite early, and generally, as a youngster, the first place you are put in is at bat-pad and short leg, so you had to work on your close-in fielding straightaway.
I could cut my leg of; I could cut my arm off. I could gouge my eye out - I'd still probably survive, but not very well, and that's what we're doing to the ocean. It's the life support system of this planet. We've been dumping in it, we've been polluting it, we've been destroying it for decades, and we're essentially maiming ourselves.
Beauty is that little something that fills the whole world, and is contained neither in a single straight nose, a long eyelash, nor a blue mountain. Some see it in a leg of mutton, others in a compound fracture; and to expect others to accept one's own definition of it is as absurd as to expect all humanity to use the same toilet-brush.
The thing is I have no ACL. So unless I get surgery, there's nothing really magical that I can do that's going to make it better. I just can get my leg stronger, my muscle stronger and try and support it a little more. But that has a small impact. My knee is loose, and it's not stable, and that's the way it's going to be from here on out.
My mother was able to get out of Germany because her father was Russian and those with a Russian passport could leave. My father was not so fortunate. He had to be smuggled out of Germany by being tied to the bow of a vegetable freighter that was leaving in the North Sea. He almost lost a leg because it was so cold, but he ended up in France.
I ushered at the Shubert in New Haven during graduate school when plays en route to Broadway still went out of town to try out. I worked backstage at summer stock doing jobs from garbage man to strapping on Herbert Marshall's wooden leg to fixing Gloria Swanson's broken plumbing in her dressing room with her yelling at me as I worked the plunger.
When I was 15, I went on a cricket tour of Zimbabwe with my school. My defining memory of it was stroking a semi-tame lioness at a game reserve. I grew up on a farm, so I felt I had an affinity with animals, and when it put a paw out, I thought I'd connected with it. But its claws came out and nicked my leg. Then I did the most stupid thing: I ran.
One of my first overseas trips with WWE was to France. I walked out of our hotel, and I see a little kid walking toward me with his mom. He gets a couple of steps past me and he stops in his tracks. I see his mom do a little bit of a double-take, then he runs over and just grabs on and starts hugging my leg as hard as he can, then he starts crying.
The other sprinters are big and powerful but I have different strengths. The first thing is my leg speed. Most guys sprint at 120 revolutions per minute but I sprint at 130-140: think of it like a smaller engine revving faster. My body is shorter too, so I can lean over the handlebars for a more aerodynamic profile: again, think a smaller engine but in an F1 car.
