Post by juniper on Nov 6, 2010 21:20:48 GMT -8
I'm 30 years old. I had two life long dreams. The first was to join the Air Force. The second was to write. I knew I would serve 20 years, retire, and write after that. I had my goal, and my plan.
At 17 I went off to college and started training in earnest. No matter how much I tried, no matter how much I trained, I could not get my run time down where it needed to be.
I was a clumsy runner when I got up to speed, and never could keep any steady pace.
I kept on with my goals until finally my knee started bothering me. And by bothering me, I mean screaming agony that had me dropping a class (the building it was in required a pass for the elevator, and the doctor I saw didn't think I needed it). I also, at least once a week, had to call my husband from the parking lot of my building so that I could have him half carry me up the stairs to our home.
At 27 years old, my mother and I finally learned that her instincts when I was learning to walk were spot on. My knees are misformed, and the shin, thigh bones and patella are meeting /through/ the cartilage.
I'm lucky. I overuse my knees and end up in pain once every few months. This last time, though, in mid-August, the pain hasn't stopped.
That's my story. Outside of that, I divorced my husband, partly over his reaction to this problem, but mostly due to other things. I work full time, I try to write, sometimes I succeed.
At 17 I went off to college and started training in earnest. No matter how much I tried, no matter how much I trained, I could not get my run time down where it needed to be.
I was a clumsy runner when I got up to speed, and never could keep any steady pace.
I kept on with my goals until finally my knee started bothering me. And by bothering me, I mean screaming agony that had me dropping a class (the building it was in required a pass for the elevator, and the doctor I saw didn't think I needed it). I also, at least once a week, had to call my husband from the parking lot of my building so that I could have him half carry me up the stairs to our home.
At 27 years old, my mother and I finally learned that her instincts when I was learning to walk were spot on. My knees are misformed, and the shin, thigh bones and patella are meeting /through/ the cartilage.
I'm lucky. I overuse my knees and end up in pain once every few months. This last time, though, in mid-August, the pain hasn't stopped.
That's my story. Outside of that, I divorced my husband, partly over his reaction to this problem, but mostly due to other things. I work full time, I try to write, sometimes I succeed.