How did this happen? I suppose age had something to do with the wear and tear on my knee. And I believe that my personal walking challenge was what probably pushed it over the edge.
There is a walking trail that goes through Minuteman National Park. It’s about 5 miles from one end to the other. On the eastern end is Fiske Hill in Lexington and at the western end is Meriam’s Corner in Concord. Both of these locations were pivotal during the revolutionary war. I had discovered this trail a few years ago and really enjoyed walking sections of it. It was peaceful and pretty and you could almost hear the sounds of farmers, muskets and regiments of med in red if you listened hard enough. In mid summer, I made the decision that I wanted to walk the entire 5 plus miles of this trail. So I trained…hard. Not only was distance on my radar but so was speed. I wanted to do this walk as fast as I could. So I trained…hard. I was walking about 2-3 miles a day and 3-4 miles a day on the weekends getting ready for this. I know it probably seems like no big deal. After all, 5 miles is not that much really. But for me, it was my own personal marathon.
I came back from my sailing trip, decided to accept the offer for a new apartment, started the process of finding a new home for Faron and focused on my “marathon” challenge. So on Saturday September 20, my bff K met me at the Fiske Hill lot and drove me the 5 miles to the Meriam’s Corner lot. He handed me a Kashi bar and a bottle of water and wished me well. And I was off. Walking from the western end of the trail to the eastern end had some significant uphill stretches. I chose to go in this direction because the hills would be an extra challenge. One hour and seventeen minutes later, I arrived at the Fiske Hill lot. I had SLAYED this challenge. I was like Rocky on the top of the steps in Philly. I had won my own personal marathon in a time that was far faster than I imagined it would be and I felt great. Victory was mine!
Five days later my knee was trashed and my walking days were over…for awhile. At the emergency room, I had a very handsome and nice Doctor who could not do too much for me because my knee was so swollen and painful, any kind of exam was excruciating. He put me in a straight leg brace that went from my ankle to mid-thigh, put me on crutches and sent me home with orders to see an orthopedic doctor and have an MRI. This was my right knee so driving was out of the question. I was devastated. I could not do anything. I could not get very far. Most importantly, I could not pack up my apartment. And I was scheduled to move in 20 days. What the hell was I going to do?
That weekend was brutal. It was a gorgeous late September weekend and all things being equal, I would have taken one last beach day. But I was trapped in my house, unable to do anything. My friends L&C said they would help pack for me. My sister said she would come down and help me pack. My brother would come and help too. It’s hard for me to a) admit I need help and b) accept it when offered. But this was no time to struggle with myself. I had to seek out and accept whatever help I could get. About a week after I hurt my knee, I had the MRI and it was determined that I had a torn meniscus, cartilage damage and a partial ACL tear. The good news…the only thing that needed to be repaired was the meniscus and the cartilage. But the best thing that happened is the Doc put me into a smaller, hinged knee brace that allowed me to move around more and most importantly, drive! He wanted to operate right away but I had to wait…I was moving, in 14 days! People face challenges every day, some bigger than others. The entire scenario (moving after 26 years, Faron, knee) was more challenging than almost anything I had ever faced before. But I would get through it…