The past two weeks have been two of the best weeks of my life, and for the simplest reason.
I was able to run.
It seems weird- a lot of people hate running. “I have to make myself run” and “I don’t run” are statements I frequently hear from those around me.
I ran cross country and track in high school, and once I got to college I continued to be an avid runner- I would run at least four miles every morning and only skipped when my school work made exercise impossible. But last September, I set out for what would be my last run for a year.
Half a mile into my run, my left knee gave out. Running through pain is hard, but most runners accept that some pains need to be pushed through. The only problem was that I could not push through this pain. In fact, I couldn’t even walk home with this pain.
I rested for a few days and tried again- this time, the pain started even sooner.
The pattern continued for weeks, so I went to the doctor. I would try to run every month, to no avail. I went to physical therapy for months, took three cortisone shots to the knee and even went a few months without trying to run at all. At my last doctor’s appointment two months ago, the doctor told me I probably wouldn’t be able to run long distances ever again.
But two weeks ago, out of complete frustration with pretty much everything, I tried running. Again. And I didn’t have to stop.
I’m not sure why my body decided to cooperate. I’ve run every other day since I ran two weeks ago, and haven’t felt the pain even once. I don’t want to jinx the situation, but this may be the end of a year-long depression.