These old knees are masquerading as young knees again. It's been almost three months since I blew out my left knee during an ill-advised stepped-up training for the 2015 edition of the Brooklyn Marathon.
My advice for others looking for such a recovery? Don't have surgery on your knees -- or any joints, unless you absolutely have no other option. I was lucky with my knee. I didn't suffer any structural damage. Near as anybody can figure -- and when it comes to the threat of higher malpractice costs, it's amazing that doctors tell us anything at all -- something called the IT band slipped out of place along the left side of my left leg and went for a short trip over the knee cap and back into place again, inflaming nerve endings and otherwise causing killer-painful discomfort and wobbliness that lasted for weeks.
What has got me back on track? Physical therapy, in which I strengthened the muscles around my knees, through a 80-minute regimen built around lunges and squats.
Slow and steady. Straight ahead, Mac. I feel the knee start to squawk when it feels lateral stress (for now tennis, a passion of mine, is out of the question.)
I'm still jogging, not running. But my knees feel as good as new. Hit 3.7 miles today (Jan. 26) in a 40-minute run on the treadmill.
It is such a great pleasure to be back at it. When you are used to running every other day for going on 40 years, you miss it.
Many people stop running following an injury. I certainly understand why. But if, after injury, you can find your way to avoiding surgery and finding a no-nonsense, hands-on sports rehab practice, you can beat the odds and, yes, if the gods are with you, run for your life.
Next: Running for Your Life: Sentences to Fear
Running for Your Life: Winter Storm Jonas ??
When it comes to blizzards – no matter how great, as this
one (on Jan. 23rd) most certainly was – they should not come with a
name.
Blizzards – and for that matter hurricanes and tropical
storms – should not be the equivalent of pets. They are less golden retriever
than wild boar. If it were possible, some people who shoot to kill a blizzard
just as they would shoot to kill a charging boar hog. They wouldn’t be naming
it before they pulled the trigger.
What’s more, it just doesn’t catch on. In the three days
since Jan. 23, not a single person asked me how I was enjoying Jonas. Perhaps
if its name were Donald or Ted or Marco, then, yeah, folks would be gassing on
about Donald this and Marco that. But Jonas just didn’t fly.
Does it have to do with meteorologists not getting enough
respect? That like the Entertainment Tonight folks they need to be associated
with celebrities? Not Brad and Beyonce and Kim. But Katrina, Sandy and Jonas.
Sad. Not Seasonal Affective Disorder or SAD. Just sad.
Next: Running for
Your Life: Straight Ahead, Mac
Running for Your Life: Going Outside, Baby !
Yes, Run for Your Life!
Post-physical therapy treatment, the parameters have shifted
with a new resolve in strengthening (in keeping with my approach to stretching
and a faith in muscle balance that will help in my continuing recovery).
And, I’m back outdoors. (Not in the blizzard [Jan. 22-24]
but …) To date, I’ve not done any better than a three-mile jog that takes me
thirty-five minutes. (Don’t do the math.)
A comedown from marathon training, I know. Call me a slow
learner. It’s taken me more than a year to admit to myself that you can’t push a
weakened body any more than you can push a late model car (Yes, 1993 Volvo
850!) without investing in repairs when needed.
Step by step. Soon, I hope, I’ll work my way up to once
around Prospect Park and home, a four-mile run. I’ll be doing that. Count on
it. But as a stronger, wiser athlete. Because, as the blog title indicates, I’ve
no alternative. It’s been a great, long ride – now’s time to embrace a little
slowness – in order to make it a longer ride !
Next: Running for
Your Life: Winter Storm Jonas ??
Running for Your Life: David Bowie (1947-2016)
David Bowie (1947-2016)
"You've got your mother in a whirl
She's not sure if you're a boy or a girl
Hey babe, your hair's alright
Hey babe, let's go out tonight
You like me, and I like it all
We like dancing and we look divine
You love bands when they're playing hard
You want more and you want it fast
They put you down, they say I'm wrong
You tacky thing, you put them on ...
Hot tramp, I love you so!"
(From Rebel Rebel)
When it comes to rock 'n' roll expression, David Bowie didn't flinch. I can't think of Bowie and his "be wild child" mantra and not think of a pal who died too young. Doug Marshall (1955-1976). He adored Bowie and his music with the sweet clarity of a thousand glittering lights.
Bowie, too, died too young. But what a Force he was !
Next: Running for Your Life: Going Outside, Baby !
Running for Your Life: December Shorts
No, I haven’t gone out in them yet. My December shorts. But
it’s been close but no.
The main reason for that: I’m still struggling with a wonky
knee. More on that later. Much later. As in, not in this post.
Has time sped up for everybody? Or is it just me? I literally
cannot believe that today (Dec. 28) is, well, today, as in the fourth last day of
2015.
If you are looking for some holiday reading, here’s what I’ve
liked in December: Shakespeare’s Dog by Leon Rooke, House of the Seven Gables
by Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Beatlebone by Kevin Barry. I’m currently reading and,
loving, the short detective novel Equal Danger by the Sicilian writer Leonardo
Sciascia.
Didn’t score big on the movie front this month. Saw Brooklyn
and Spotlight. They weren’t Birdman. Made me think that I’d like to make a
movie called Owen Sound. In fact, all hometowns should be made into movies. It
would beat Netflix.
We have a radio. My wife, M, wanted one for Christmas. The
only gift she asked for. I had a shortwave radio sitting unused on a basement shelf since we moved to our home in 1992. I bought it for $400 in 1986
and used it during my years at the Windsor Star newspaper where I worked as the
assistant night editor for most of that time. The shortwave dial was shot, but
one day in early December I picked it up, thinking that the FM and AM dials may work perfectly fine. It was worth a try, anyway. I took the radio up into the kitchen and plugged it in,
pulled the antenna out to its maximum length, and sure enough it worked like a
charm. When M came up from her home office, she found her Christmas present – and has
been inordinately pleased with it through the following days of December. It
was the only gift she received, one she says she will never forget.
Next: Running for
Your Life: Resolution Rumblings
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