If you are just now tuning in, you need to know I have arthritis in my right knee, brought on by sports injuries from Collegiate TaeKwonDo, carrying extra weight from my gestations, and treating my body like a pool hall, in general.
Oh, I’m 44 and have the mileage of an 80-year-old.
We’re talking City Miles.
And you should probably know I’m a whiner. So if you keep reading my drivel blog, you’ll hear plenty about the Godforsaken Knee.
This Thanksgiving our little community had a 5K run/walk. We do it often because one of our townsfolk, Gail Lee, of The Biggest Loser fame, is determined to help the rest of us share in her health success.
I like Gail. She’s got the energy of a decent-sized star, only brighter. I like to support her endeavors, and join in her sense of community. And we do have a wonderful Mayberry-esque community here in Poolesville, Maryland.
The first thing this nippy, but sunny, Thanksgiving morning, My Captain and I put on our comfy clothes and met a none-too-shabby group of stalwart souls in the parking lot where the 5K would start.
Understand this: My knee cannot handle 5K. It can barely handle the walk from my easy-chair to the cupboard where I keep the Easy Cheese. But I hate feeling that I’m missing something.
My Captain kept begging me “Don’t Do This! You’ll be laid up for days.”
I stubbornly held my ground, determined to walk at least 1 mile. One. Measly. Little. Mile.
My Captain, well-knowing my current physiological challenges, didn’t even put his tennis shoes on, or his coffee down.
OUCH.
There I am in my yoga pants, my super-spiffy athletic fleece from LL Bean, and my polypropylene underwear, and he’s in his clunky work boots, Carhartt canvas jacket, and carrying an extra-large McDonald’s coffee. And he’s walking faster than me.
I used to be athletic! I whitewater kayaked! I earned a black belt and fought large women, some of whom had hair on their backs! I biked hundreds of miles around large portions of states. I WAS A CONTENDER!!!!
***sigh***
And now I limp around whining about the passing of my youth.
But I did my one measly mile, dagnabbit. Even if I did hobble like a penguin, I’m glad I did it. I may not be what I once was, but I’m alive. And it felt good to be out moving in the sunshine with the love of my life.
And I’ll be blogging from my family room for the next several days with an ice-pack on my knee.
Someone go get me the Easy Cheese for gosh sake.
Mama Boe 