But most of my aches and pains can be attributed to falling off bikes and jumping out of perfectly good aeroplanes, ha ha! Cheers, Terry. 
Now Terry, as any good skydiver knows, there's no such thing as a perfectly good airplane (or aeroplane either). 
I guess that's right Gordy, but I was never a "Skydiver", I was a "Paratrooper". What's the difference, I hear you ask? A Skydiver is a nut-job poser in a brightly colored jumpsuit who actually enjoys (or at least pretends to enjoy) jumping out of 'planes from thousands of feet, with the best free-fall rig money can buy, to gently land back at the parachute club, to ponce around with the rest of his (openly-homosexual) pals, sipping chardonnay and discussing the property market.
A Paratrooper, on the other hand, is the poor bastard dressed in cams (fatigues?) carrying his body weight again in his pack with weapon, water, ammo and rations, being booted out of a C130 at 1000 feet to hang off a non-steerable T10D-B only to land in trees, or on buildings or hard DZ's utilizing the classic "heels-ass-head" or "toes-knees-nose" landing options, then to pick himself up, shake out into patrol order and start tabbing, while his Platoon Sergeant says terrible things about his Momma. Geez, I miss it, ha ha! Cheers, Terry.