Moving Forward...life before, during and after a meniscus transplant

I'm pretty comfortable with the concept of fear, or with being afraid.  I am afraid of clowns. Have been for as long as I can remember. Ironically, I had a picture of a clown painted on the inside of my crib. There are pictures of me as an infant (see below) looking at the clown and smiling. My mom says I used to "talk" to the clown. I personally think that the painted clown started talking back to me and scared the shit out of me, which explains my fear of them. I have no proof, but that seems like as plausible an explanation as any other. I very much despise anything that resembles a clown.  I have fears about being a parent and parenting my boys. Fear for their physical safety and well-being. Fear for their mental and emotional well-being. Fear that they won't be happy, or at the very least productive, humans. Fear that they will grow up to be assholes. Fear that they will resent me.  These are all legitimate fears that probably most mothers feel

Saturday night I was sending some "good luck tomorrow" messages to my friends who were racing in the Philly 10K. It's something running friends do for each other, and it feels good to be a giver and receiver of those messages, so I was mustering up my good running vibes and sending them along.  I'll be honest...it wasn't easy for me to even acknowledge that the race was happening. I registered long ago, secured my spot, and was going to run it for my fourth year in a row...and the race is four years old. So my thought was that I would run it every year, without skipping a year, because how often are you around for the inaugural running of a race that then becomes your favorite race?  Never, that's how often. I was going to be running the 25th year in a row as a 60 year old! But, you know, things changed... So I transferred my bib to an able bodied lady (I hope she had a good race!) and was going to ignore that the race was even happening. But as a

If you know me, you've probably heard me mention the fact that I had  an eating disorder growing up. Since it's not something that ever just goes away, I guess a person always "has" it in either an active or dormant state. So I guess it's more accurate to say that I still have an eating disorder, but that it has been relatively quiet for many years thanks to hard work, therapy, running (there's that word I always talk about!), and a great support system. I'm pretty open about it. Talking about eating disorders and mental illness in general, bluntly and without flinching, is a new skill of mine.  It takes away the shame and the secrecy. I have been told that it has helped others with their own issues. I don't see that there's anything to hide...so if it comes up, I'll discuss it. I even got a tattoo a couple of years ago that allows total strangers to hear about it... The conversation goes something like this: Stranger: oh that's

I've been coming to the Rehoboth/Dewey Beach area somewhat regularly since I was in 6th grade (27 years, which isn't possible because I can't be THAT old!) and very regularly since I was a sophomore in college (so, for the past 19 years). There's a million things I love about southern Delaware, and wouldn't you know it, one of the things that's on the top of my list is running down here.  We vacationed down here with another family many years in a row when I was young, and the father was a runner...like a real runner...had shoes he wore only when he ran, and described his runs in miles rather than blocks or street lengths. I remember going running with him as a 12 year old, our first summer in Rehoboth...I'd never run before but thought it must be cool since he would wake up early and disappear and come back looking so sweaty and happy. So I went with him one morning, I vaguely remember that we ran about 3 miles, and I was sick for hours after. He

One thing that running gave me, maybe one of the more important things, was the ability to reset my mental/emotional state. For better or worse, I feel things strongly and sometimes have a hard time "letting it go," to quote a certain Disney princess.  Up until a few weeks ago, I could be feeling any sort of way about anything, and after I went for a run (usually a fast 3 mile one) I was calm and collected and felt balanced again. I felt like I was the luckiest and smartest person ever to have found a way to use the thing I loved doing to keep me physically AND mentally fit.  Genius!  And I know I will find something to take the place of running, both physically and mentally. And even if I don't ever love it like I love(d) running, I will make it work, because I need it to work.  But in the immediate time, and for the next several (too many to think about) months, I have to keep my head together myself. I have days where I feel pretty skilled and pretty

Today I was discharged from physical therapy. Less than 2 weeks from surgery #1, a little over 11 weeks until surgery #2.  Marty is my PT guy, and I really like him. He explains the why and how and what to me, rather than just telling me to do x,y, and z exercises. He's going to be with me for the next surgery too. I already gave him the post-op protocol for the big surgery so he has some sense of what's involved (I'm a bit of a proactive planner type of person). He's  excited to see me eventually rehab to pain free and fully functioning.  I've been walking a lot and getting to the Y when I can for weights and time on the stationary bike. I don't like it. I actually hate it a little. It's hard to make myself go. This has never been my activity of choice (anything gym bound), but after my workout yesterday I actually have muscle soreness today. That tells me I'm challenging my muscles, not just working on the bad knee joint.  I always liked the ge

Change of plans...     No, I'm not going to start running again. I really wish. When I went to my doctor Wednesday to have my stitches out, I wanted him to tell me, "you know what, this really isn't all that bad.  Just run and stop and rest if it hurts."   He did take the stitches out, but he also spent a LOT of time talking to me about what to do next...what surgery to pick to "restore" my knee.   My options were: the meniscus transplant, or the partial knee replacement. After surgery, I found out that the osteoarthritis is much worse than the imaging showed, and my previously repaired ACL is deficient and needs replacing as well.  This makes me a risky complicated meniscus transplant candidate.  The partial knee with ACL repair was the other option.   Honestly the meniscus transplant scared the shit out of me.  It's a gnarly (my friend Courtney's word), long surgery, with an extremely challenging recovery.  The partial knee,

One of the many things that running gave me was a community of people who were unlike any other group of people in my life.  These people, who are more different than alike, became a source of support and encouragement and purpose over the past few years.  As the Philadelphia Running Social Media scene took off, I found myself interacting with people from all walks of life with varied ages and religions and backgrounds and careers and personalities and desires...all with the one common interest of running.  I was delighted by the support and encouragement I received, and happily shared that support to others along the way.  Little by little I met many of these people during group runs, at races, or in "real life" when neither of us were doing anything related to running...at the grocery store, at work, at synagogue, in the school yard.  These people understood my relationship with running in a way that many never will, and have solidified a place in my life for that very rea

Benefits of not being a runner anymore:   1) I don't have to try and scramble my work and family schedules around the races I signed up for a year earlier and forgot all about     2) I can wear athletic shoes that I like the looks of rather than wear the shoes that work best for my feet even if they cost a fortune and look like bowling shoes   3) There is far less laundry to do on a daily basis    4) I don't have to find the money for the full Ironman I planned to do next year   5) I can eat and drink what I want on a Saturday night and not worry about how it will affect my "long run" on Sunday 6) My toenails might grow back and I could start getting pedicures again 7) My day does not revolve around when I plan on running and how many miles it will be 8) I can volunteer at races like I've always wanted to, but couldn't because I also wanted to run in them 

Yesterday I had my weekly therapy appointment.  It was not the easiest to get to, inasmuch as I wanted to sit on the couch and not move all day, but decided it was best (for me and everyone around me) that I go and tell my troubles to a trusted expert rather than mope around on the couch.  It was a stormy day and there were puddles everywhere.  I took this reflection picture (something I learned from a running hero of mine) and found the perfect quote to match how I was feeling at that time. "Things I used to trip on, I walk over now" Yesterday I was feeling that...I was feeling pretty bad ass that 24 hours after surgery I was hobbling around the city, keeping my mental health in check, changing the bandages on my head and my knee, folding laundry at home, cooking dinner...not letting this little inconvenience of knee surgery get in the way of me getting shit done. But then it was night-time and I was in a ton of pain and my foot was swollen and I was s