I have always
known that at last I would take this road.
But,
yesterday, I did not know it would be today.
I read that Kenneth Rexroth poem
in college (from his book, One Hundred Poems from the Japanese) and it always
stuck with me. The inevitability of life. That there were certain roads we
would all have to take, but youth or pride or youthful pride, made us think
that the road was very far away.
And it is.
Until it isn’t.
Then, you must face it and you
must deal with whatever lies on that road.
These musings came to me today as
today is the day that I understand and, more importantly accept, that I will
never run again. I will never again be a ‘runner’. I will never again know the
joy of lacing up my sneaks and hitting the road. Of sprinting. Of pounding out
some miles to clear my head. Of feeling that delicious burn in my lungs. Of
talking to God as I settle in to my pace.
And, yes, I knew this day would
come. But, truly, I thought I would be 77 and running would just not be a good
idea anymore. I never thought I would be taken out by a slightly twisted spine.
Know I’ve done everything
possible to make this not so. I’ve been to numerous physical therapists, a
spine specialist, an acupuncturist, a chiropractor, done massage, and even read
a book that was guaranteed to heal me. I’ve heard endless stories of how people
beat their own back injury.
But, one leg is shorter than the
other and the twist in my spine makes my pelvis splay outward on the opposite
side. Each therapist, etc, has told me that running is not a good idea. That if I continue to do it, I will cause irreparable damage. I can honestly say that I hit that space years ago. I am in the irreparable damage now...it is here. So, the goal is to get me to be able to live life with the minimum amount
of pain. The list is long of athletic type things I’ll never be able to do again.
Everyday stuff, too.
I’ve been in denial for quite a
while. I normally bounce back quickly from injury and I just didn’t want to
believe that an accumulation of random incidents from my life could take me
out. Gymnastics. A bike crash here. A fall there. The way I walk. The way my
body adjusted to a shorter leg and a twisted spine.
I don’t want limits on my life! I want my
body to do what I ask it to do! I don’t want to be a pudgesicle!
But, alas, today is the day I
have to walk on this new road. And I really, really, really don’t want to. It
brings up too many questions I have no answers for…who am I if I am not
athletic? How will I adjust to a non-athletic body? How will I pump myself up
to think of walking as exercise? What am I going to do with all these water
bottles? Who invented liquid soap and why? (My undying love and affection if
you get the movie reference.)
And I know I will do what I am
not supposed to do…I will go for a run. If I can never run again, the last run
is going to be on my terms. It is the last bit of control I have in the
situation. It will hurt. It will set back my therapy. But, it will be done. I
will gather myself and go out alone and run. No dogs. No music. I will say
good-bye. I will bid a fond farewell to something I have done all my life. I will
let it go with as much grace as I can
muster.
Just me, God, and the pounding of
my shoes on the pavement.
