The Blahs.

Photo by Markus Spiske on

It’s dark and rainy this Saturday morning.  Not a whole lot is going on in the house right now but a snoring dog.  It’s been rainy and gloomy lately, and my mood has followed suit.

A few weeks ago, I started having issues with my back.  It was high time, if you ask me.  I’ve been pretty rough with myself the past couple of years and I knew it would catch up with me.  The physical therapist in me knows better, and if I were my own patient, I would be uttering those words…”well, what did you expect?”

The road to ownership of my pain and stiffness, as well as the recovery from it, is bumpy and unpredictable.  Yet, I am hoping to see light at the end of this tunnel.  I’ve had a couple of days were I almost feel normal, only to back peddle again.  Then, doubt sets in.  Will I be able to continue doing everything that I have in the past?  Will there always be consequences now?

This is a common topic at work with patients in the clinic.  Age starts to rear it’s ugly head.  In your twenties, you might twist your ankle during a run, only to wake up the next day and find that you have completely forgotten that it even happened.

As we get older, things linger longer than we’d like.  Runners come into the clinic complaining of pain.  When I ask how long it’s been going on, they frankly don’t even remember when it first started.  That simple twisting of an ankle that never caused a ripple way back when is now a tidal wave that’s been around for weeks, maybe even months.

I am trying to put everything into perspective.  I know I’m not young, but I’m also not old.  So, there’s a way out of this injury.  I ignored it for long enough, but with some concentration and effort, I have made some good progress.  Soon, things will shift.

I am working hard to climb out of this hole, and I’m seeing glimpses of sunlight beyond the rim of despair.  I’ll just keep climbing and try not to slip backwards.

In the meantime, Run Happy.  Run Long, friends.




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