I went running yesterday morning, because I couldn’t bear the thought of resting any longer. I have experienced very little pain in my knee since the end of the all the football games on Sunday evening, but I am certain that my FBNH injury recovery system is fully responsible for what appears to be a complete recovery... almost. I had intended to run a very cautious 3 miles at a relaxed pace, but after a painless couple of minutes I found myself running at a heightened velocity. The scenery in my peripheral vision blurred together and disappeared behind me, the crunching of gravel underfoot grew rhythmically faster, my legs danced like a flautist’s* fingers trying to keep up with The Flight of the Bumblebee, the wind rushed fiercely through my ears, in one and out the other, my stride returned to its glorious, pre-injury form, and with it all, my proclivity for longwinded, run on sentences was apparently restored.
You might have deduced that it was a good run from my magniloquent description of it above, but at the very end of my 3 miles I did start to notice a faint pain in the back of my right knee again. Fortunately, I was finishing up my run and was able to kill it with a fun-sized pack of Advil. I’m going to rest up over the next couple of days and then make a second attempt at the 17 mile long run that was cut down in the prime of its life last Saturday. If I am unable to finish what I’ve started this coming weekend then it will be a sure sign that my work life has started to slip into my personal life, and also I’m going to look into having my knee replaced so that I can be ready for the PF Chang’s R‘n’R Marathon in January.
Do you hear me, right knee? If you screw up again you’re getting replaced. I simply won’t tolerate certain body parts quitting on the rest of us.
*Or ‘flutist’ if you prefer to be a little less pretentious, which I don’t.