But maybe I’m on the edge of a break-though.
In the past few weeks a gray-haired lady in a sedan pulled up beside me near the end of 8 miles and asked if I needed help. I was limping.
I greeted a kid, passing me on a crosswalk with a cheery “hello,” and he replied, “You OK?” I was limping.
Yesterday, my neighbor told me he’d seen me coming home but before he could finish, I said, “I know, I was limping.”
Left knee is gimpier than usual.
For the first time in my life, I’m going to the chiropractor. He’s working on knee and piriformis.
To his credit he asked, “ How will I know if I’m helping you?”
“When I stop running 15-minute-miles and get back to 11:30’s—-even 10:30’s. AND when I stop dragging my heels and get some spring in my step.”
Right now my knee hurts, but yesterday, I got it all back. I ran the sand from Newport Pier to Balboa Pier and back. Returning home on the sidewalk, I felt free. Looked down at my Garmin, “11:30,” then “10:30!”
Was the sand-running might be rehabilitative? Maybe the chiropractor’s addition of work on the piriformis made the difference. He’d previously focused on the knee as I’d been diagnosed years ago with a small tear in the meniscus.
Spoiled by years pain-free, my 73-year-old knee should be teaching me humility. Instead, I’m learning impatience. I’m ready for a solution.