I was opening my Facebook page when a memory came up for me
to share. It was only from a year ago but it showed how far I had come in that
year. It was a picture of a cane. It was a small step in my recovery from a
stress fracture in my right knee. I was switching from crutches to a cane. A
sign that I was on the mend. Yet here I am now almost exactly a year later
planning on doing an almost 200 mile run. I had almost forgotten that I had that
injury or at least it felt much longer ago.
As I write this I am only a couple of days away from running
the length of New Jersey with two friends and a host of family and friends who
will volunteer to help. I had been so consumed with the logistics of the run
that I had felt that it was an adventure that started when we announced the run
at the beginning of 2024. Yet this running journey began a year ago with me on
my butt. Unable to walk let alone run.
I was so consumed with the future I had forgotten my roots.
Yet now I was intrigued by the journey that was appearing on my Facebook memory. It seemed a lifetime ago. Yet sometimes that
is the way life is. A past experience seems like a different life. I went back
to blog
I wrote about my feelings and emotions of the injury. I read it to see if
it matched what my recollections were.
To my surprise my memory of my feelings and emotions were
pretty on point. It was a mix of bravado, determination, and fear. I was also
taken by what I told the doctor in his office when he said I had to stop
running and use crutches.
“When I run my next
100 mile run or the state of New Jersey again. I will let you know, so that
other patients know what is possible.”
Actually, after I did my 100+ mile run in the fall I
realized I never did let the doctor know. My mistake it is good for patients to
know that complete recovery is possible.
Yet as I prepare to take that first step on my New Jersey running journey I am now taking time to reflect on a journey that I know a few people thought I would not be able to take at my age. Yet there were lessons in that journey that will help me in future hard journeys.
One of the biggest lessons learned was not a new one, but
one that I had learned doing ultra-marathons. Break the goals into manageable
parts. Usually running 100 miles seems
overwhelming especially when you are feeling a little tired but just running say
ten miles to the next aid station is much more doable. Before you know it, the
last aid station is five miles away and it means you have attained what you
thought was impossible.
With my rehab I did the same thing. I went from crutches to using
a cane. Then started walking without one. I also made sure that I was diligent
about my physical therapy. I went to Jag Physical Therapy and worked with the
staff there to continue my progress not so that I can walk again but so that I
could run. This is not meant to be an advertisement for them, but they were a
key partner in my comeback. That is because my goal was their goal. They wanted
me to run again too.
I still remember the moment one of the physical therapist
took me outside to the back of the office and said try and run. It was a moment
that scared me. Yet it was an important step that I needed to take. This
partnership with them was another lesson. We all need other people to support
and encourage us. This is especially true when times are difficult.
After my physical therapy it was a slow ramp up from a 5K to
a six-hour trail loop run, a marathon and then a 100 mile run. At each step I
was methodical. They were each my next aid station.
There was a third lesson. That is that my rehab was not just
on my body, but it was on my brain as well. Physical injuries will affect you
mentally as well. I was literally running scared in the beginning. My steps
were tentative and I was concentrating on my knee. It took a while before my
mind not to think like I was an injured person. That was when I was healed when
the mind and body ran together.
If you have ever hiked up a mountain and along the trail
there is a great view of the valley below, I am at that stage. You gaze at the
valley below with awe because this is why we hike mountains for the view. You
also then look for where you started, and it looks so far and you take pride
that your legs have taken you so far. I am at that point on my journey. Looking
back with a little pride. But now I will turn my head from the valley below to
the peak ahead. The journey is not over. I still have to navigate a difficult
route before I reach my goal.
After that there is only one thing to do. Send an email to a
doctor.
