Sometimes I get really afraid that I won’t be able to run any more. I wake up and something hurts, or my knee is swollen or I freak out because things just don’t feel the way they used to and I’m convinced it is being taken away from me.
Truth be told, I think some of it has been taken. I shudder to think I’ve done permanent “damage” to my body. I can’t bend my knees a certain way or put certain pressures on them any more. But maybe that is normal? We just have to be more careful. Maybe that happens as we age, things just work differently, take longer to heal and sometimes, it hurts.
It never lasts too long, I guess. But it makes me wonder if I’m doing the right thing. I mean, if I’m going to age anyway, and my body is going to change anyway, I might as well be doing something good for me. Something I enjoy. Something that keeps my heart strong and my mind quiet. What’s the alternative? Sit? Do nothing? Lose more health? Age anyway.
I have no answers, I have no idea. I feel like I’m doing what I can, seeing doctors when I need to, taking preventive measures, praying. That should be enough. Consciously keeping myself healthy should be enough. And still I’m scared of it being taken away.
That’s a little silly, I know. If I’m allowing myself to be afraid of running being taken away then who’s to say I shouldn’t be afraid of everything being taken away? Things far worse than my healthy joints could be gone tomorrow, and I don’t want to live there. That’s a place where we’re constantly saying what if and when and why, which leads nowhere.
I’d rather run as though it is the right choice, as though it has only benefits and as though it is there to be seized. Sort of like the day itself.
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