My fantastic run of self diagnosis continues. Another posterior meniscus tear on the lateral side. I could have told the Doc without the MRI so when he told me today that indeed I have another significant tear I was silently happy. Being right about my diagnosis, adding to my last 4 correct diagnosis, offers little in the way of condolence. I'm trying to figure out why it keeps happening and whether its all worth it.
I spoke with my friend TJ tonight about how important running actually is, I mean when you look past the whole addiction and passion etc. Its just running. And that is exactly what I miss most. I know I'm not hitting the Euro track circuit again and I doubt I'll ever run a PB again (unless I do a marathon and just finishing that will be a PB) but all I want to do is run. I love it, love the feeling after a run, love the nerves before even the smallest of races, love the friendships, love the burn, the suffering, pushing myself. And even though I get all that stuff riding a bike, its not quite the same.
So next Monday the Doc and I will decide whether or not I want my fifth surgery, fourth on my right knee. He will of course oblige me because he understands when he looks in my eyes how important it is for me to run again, but what he wants me to understand is that there is a slight chance my body is telling me something. I have long lost any belief in fate and for many years I thought it was my fate to overcome these hurdles and achieve something very satisfying in the sport. Maybe I should just accept that I have achieved a lot, I've be part of many great races and if I never get it back I should still be happy with where I've been. And just as I wrote that I had a little chuckle to myself. Of course I'm not stopping and of course I'm going to try again. Maybe a little more sensibly this time. Maybe.
Peace, Love, And Thanks,