It’s official. I’m old. Well, my left leg is anyway. The actual age of my knee is 26, but lately it has felt like it’s around 90. And today I had to go to the doctor to look at said knee, which has plagued me for nine years.
The good news is, I am still able to run, but trying to explain about how I hurt my knee in the first place has always been a bit interesting. The conversation usually goes something like this:
Me: “Yeah, I dislocated my knee a few years ago, so it’s not in the best of shape.”
Concerned Friend: “Really? What happened?”
Me: “Oh, I stood up.”
Some people have interesting stories about how they had a 350-pound guy slam into their leg, or how they were trying to outrun hyenas in the Serengeti to explain their injury. Me, I stood up in a high school auditorium and my leg went out from underneath me.
If you’re wondering how that feels, I liken it to someone taking a baseball bat to your leg.
But I digress. It’s been almost nine years. Why hasn’t my knee healed yet? Honestly, it’s probably because I have been inactive for at least seven of those nine years. And all of the running I have been attempting lately has strengthened my leg, while simultaneously making my knee scream, “Wait for me!”
Earlier this week, I had the knee pain of an 85-year-old woman with arthritis shooting up my leg, so I ended up walking instead of running. It was actually quite scary. And since I’d really rather not go through the pain of an out of place knee cap again, I broke down and had my doctor advise me on what to do next. Basically, I’m in better shape than I thought and I got a really fashionable Neoprene brace for my knee.
Good thing too, because I’ve got to keep moving so I can get in shape. And let’s face it, “Baby got back fat” just doesn’t sound that attractive.